A Song For Lonely Hill
by ciaosushi
Summary: Seven years after the war, everyone else has moved on and started living their lives. But Hermione has scars that still haven't healed. After looking for hope in all of the wrong places, she stumbles upon it in a way she hadn't foreseen. DHr. COMPLETE
1. Memories and Surprises

**A Song for Lonely Hill**

**A/N**: _For the past few months I've been writing a lot of different stories, but nothing I really liked. Then this one popped into my head, and I feel like I may get into it. I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with this, but oh well. Enjoy, and please read & review._

Memories and Surprises---

It was silent as they waited- Silent but for the heavy breathing of the motionless figures scattered in pairs across the battlefield, their wands raised and poised as if in mid-strike. They were frozen in anticipation.

A great, heavy fog swirled around the shadowed battlers, preventing them from seeing anything at all or witnessing the outcome of the most important duel of all- An outcome that would determine the course of the rest of their lives.

It could have been many hours before the smoke finally cleared. No one was ever quite sure. All heads turned towards the center, searching for a body… Any sign that it was over.

Sure enough, one dark, solitary figure remained, his wand resting in hand, chest heaving. A strong, clear voice called out through the night, Remus Lupin's.

"Who is it?"

The air was thick as each person leaned in slightly, desperately, to hear the answer that would determine future's course.

"It's me," the voice was quivering and high-pitched.

"Harry?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, Harry!" this time it was a female voice that echoed through the grounds. She ran forward to him, chestnut hair billowing behind her, arms outstretched.

Remus Lupin raised a hand in protest. "Hermione, no! Not yet." She stopped suddenly and regained her composure, though her eyes grew wide and filled with tears- Of joy, or sadness, it was hard to tell.

"Where is he? Where is Voldemort?" said Lupin quietly, as though afraid of the answer. "I don't see a body."

Harry opened his mouth, but didn't answer.

"Did he run?" Hermione whispered.

"The Dark Lord wouldn't run, you cowering, silly, stupid little girl," sneered an entirely different female voice.

"Be quiet Bella, it is a fair question," said a sinister looking man with long, white-blonde hair on the opposite end of the field.

"Harry, _what happened_?" insisted Lupin.

"He… I… He's…" the skinny boy stammered, struggling to get the words out.

"Is he dead? Did you kill him?"

The boy called Harry Potter took a deep breath, pushed back his damaged glasses and nodded.

At once the field erupted into motion. People cried, laughed, screamed, fainted, shouted things like, "Impossible!" "But only seventeen!" "I don't believe it!" "Where is the body?" Even Harry Potter cracked a smile at the sudden outbreak of emotion.

"Enough!" cried Lupin. "Harry, where is the body?"

"There." He pointed a shaking finger towards what most had taken for an abandoned cloak. "There isn't much of him left, without his Horcruxes… "

The woman with the sneering female voice called Bellatrix Lestrange darted forward at once, shrieking and sobbing. "No! My Lord, how could this have happened? _No!_" She cradled the huddled black body in her arms and rocked back and forth, hysterical with disbelief and horror.

Then, a tall, black man shouted, "Stupefy!" and a figure collapsed mid-dash. "That one tried to get away, he did. He was heading for the Forbidden Forest. Theodore Nott, I think."

"Good work, Kingsley," said Lupin, triumphantly. "As for the rest of you Death Eaters, try to escape, you get the same as him. It's over now."

One by one, many of the figures across the field raised their hands into the air, realizing that they were nothing without their Dark Lord. Surprisingly few remained.

---

Hermione's eyes darted along a map, her finger tracing a red line that ran through it. At last she reached her destination, her powerful mind calculating, memorizing the directions and street names.

Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley lived in New York City now, a place in America she was not very familiar with but was often forced to visit for his sake. It was far too crowded and busy for her taste. He often said that it was easier to blend in- Lots of muggles all over the place. Hermione supposed she could not blame them for it. Harry and Ginny could hardly walk down the streets of England anymore without being bombarded by awed people, even though it had been seven years since the defeat of Lord Voldemort.

Hermione, however, had rented a flat in London after leaving school and hadn't moved since. She had been living in the same place for six years. And she could handle the weird looks she got from people when sitting in a tea shop trying to read. They were never as many as Harry received, and she was grateful.

But Ginny's due date was approaching rapidly, and Hermione had promised both her and Harry that she would be there the day their twins were born.

Hermione stuffed the map in her robe pocket and walked briskly to the nearest Appartion Port in London. Continental Apparation was a risky business, and the ministry liked to record who was traveling where. She scowled irritably. It would be a lot easier to just leave from directly her flat and be done with it.

Not only that, but the American Ministry had positioned heavy magical security all around Harry and Ginny's apartment building to keep wizards from Apparating in. Hermione would be forced to walk sixteen endlessly complicated and unfamiliar blocks to get there.

So, alright, she was a little bit bitter about the whole matter, but the fact was she didn't have much time to spare, due to her demanding work, and visits to America were quite a hassle.

Eventually she reached the port and waited in line with a gaggle of young girls who openly gawked at her and whispered behind their hands. _Damn it_, she thought. _Forgot the glasses_. In order to lessen the amount of unwelcome stares, Hermione had regularly donned a pair of large, dark sunglasses.

"Name?" said a witch, impatiently. It was her turn in line, at last.

"Hermione Jane Granger."

"Wizarding Security Code?"

"1785-1443-6378"

"ID?" She passed him a card with her picture that was recorded and passed back to her. "Follow the signs so you know where to leave from."

Hermione passed through the doors and entered the United States of America section. Several other people were there, including a man that looked vaguely familiar to her. He had unnaturally died black hair and an angular jaw line. He would have been rather handsome, had his face not been twisted into a self-satisfied smirk. He turned towards her and his face fell in recognition. Just as she Disapparated, she realized who it was, impossible though it seemed.

_Draco Malfoy, of all people, going to New York? The absurdity._


	2. Familiarities and Nervous Breakdowns

**A Song for Lonely Hill**

**A/N**: _This next chapter is a lot more eventful and interesting than the last, I think. I Hope you enjoy it! Oh- And please, please PLEASE review. I really appreciate feedback, as it helps me improve my stories. Thanks!_

Familiarities and Nervous Breakdowns---

A few busy hours later, Hermione drew her wand and murmured various passwords to the Potter-Weasley's door while bracing herself for a large group of very happy people. She had grown far too accustomed to her lonely one-roomed flat and hadn't had much company apart from her rather unfriendly co-workers at the laboratory.

She currently worked at a company that experimented with the controversial mixing of magical potions and common muggle sciences. Her line of work was frowned upon, because wizards were arrogant and considered the mingling of two worlds unnatural and unjust.

_Well,_ she thought, _they'll see when we make a break-through that could change the world as we know it._

At the moment, they were striving to invent a more powerful and effective cure for werewolves than Wolfsbane Potion. Their ultimate goal was to not only heal the side effects of transformation, but to cease transformation in the first place. It was a tall order, but Hermione was passionate about what she did, feeling that if they looked in the right places, anything was possible.

The door swung open to a flurry of noise and color and happy faces, harshly interrupting her train of thought.

"Hermione! You _came,_" Ginny exclaimed, throwing her arms around Hermione as far as her pregnancy of two children would allow her.

"Of course I did, I wouldn't miss this." Ginny positively beamed as she led her into the apartment.

The living room was full the brim with familiar faces who all jumped up enthusiastically to greet her. Lupin was there, with Tonks, the two of them looking not nearly as shabby as she had recalled. Molly and Arthur were also striding toward her, the happiest she had seen them since…

They embraced as she forced the pang of sorrow to the back of her mind for another time.

Percy, Charlie, Bill and Fleur all waved, and Hermione found her heart lightening considerably in spite of herself. This wasn't going to be so bad. This wasn't going to remind her of old times that she desperately wished she could return to. It was going to be fine, everything was healing. The wounds were healing. She was healing.

Suddenly, she realized who she hadn't seen yet.

"Ginny, where's Harry?"

"He'll be back very soon, I expect. He's picking someone up from the Apparition Port who doesn't really know his way around New York..." Something in Ginny's relaxed, airy tone was suspicious to Hermione... But she didn't ask.

"Why don't you sit down and have a cup of tea?" offered Mrs. Weasley. "No, Ginny, I'll do it, you need your rest. You have to stop overexciting yourself."

"Alright, mum, alright," she rolled her eyes exasperatedly, lowering herself into the nearest arm chair. Hermione followed suit. "So. Tell us what you've been up to since we last saw you."

"Well, things are going pretty well for me, I'm still living in London, of course." As she prepared to launch herself into a well-practiced story, the door flew open. In the doorway stood two radically different men, one who she expected, and another who she had hoped to never see again.

"Harry, you're back!" Ginny rushed forward to hug her husband, who eagerly accepted her.

"How many people did you invite?" he asked, jokingly. The room was very crowded, and Harry was literally glowing with joy.

Everyone rushed forward to greet him, including Hermione, though she was still momentarily shocked to see Draco Malfoy, his hair returned to its usual vivid white-blonde, warily hanging back from the group. The others seemed to feel the same way, awkwardly teetering on the brink between downright ignoring him or awkwardly addressing him. Was it rude to ask what the _hell_ he was doing here?

Harry finally reached Hermione in the mass of people, giving her a huge hug. "How've you been doing?"

"Fine," she assured him. He looked the same as ever, just taller and more grown up. He never did figure out how to get his hair to lie flat, and had stopped trying. She smiled as his brilliantly green eyes sparkled with a fire she hadn't seen there for a very long time.

"Harry," Mrs. Weasley pushed through the group with a stern, determined look about her, "Ginny has been refusing to tell me what you're naming your children. If someone doesn't tell me soon, I'll-"

"Really, Mum, I've just been waiting for him to get here so we could make the announcement together. Everyone sit down, make yourselves comfortable." They all did, except for Malfoy, who resolutely remained standing, looking very uncomfortable indeed.

"Well…?" Mrs. Weasley said impatiently.

"You tell them, Harry."

"Alright, then. So we've decided to name the girl Lily, for my mother."

There were several outbreaks of "Aaw," and "How wonderful," that greeted this news.

"And the boy…" He looked rather nervous suddenly. "We're going to name him Ronald."

A tense silence dropped through the room like ice. Emotion flooded through Hermione… She couldn't stand it… Couldn't take the pain… Didn't want to think about it…

_Ron should be here, with us all, _She thought._ He should be laughing with Harry and smiling with his friends and family. He should be here, anticipating the births of his niece and nephew. He, more than anyone, deserves that._

She didn't think she could take the emptiness anymore, until-

"That's lovely, Harry. We're so happy for you two," choked Mrs. Weasley through mingled tears of joy and despair.

Hermione noticed with a painful jolt that Ginny had a single tear rolling down her cheek.

"It's nearing eleven o'clock now, I suppose everyone should be getting back to wherever you're staying," Harry said, regaining control. "Come as early as you can tomorrow."

One by one, or occasionally two by two, everyone said their goodbyes and left, leaving Ginny, Harry, Hermione and Malfoy.

"Harry, I haven't got anywhere to stay," admitted Hermione, "I don't really have much money to afford a hotel, I-"

"Don't be silly, you're staying here. We have two spare bedrooms for you," she swallowed, "and Draco."

"Oh. Thank you."

Malfoy shuffled off into his indicated room and closed the door.

Ginny yawned hugely. "I guess I should be getting to bed. Due date tomorrow, and all. Goodnight." She kissed Harry and retreated behind closed doors.

He was about to follow her when Hermione spoke.

"Wait."

He sighed. "I knew this was coming."

"What the _hell_ is _Malfoy_ doing in your _house?_"she practically scream-whispered.

"Shh! He'll hear you! We have a perfectly legitimate reason, Hermione. I don't

like it, but we don't have much of a choice right now."

"You better have a damned good reason."

"I do. So, he's been on the run from the law for the past seven years, as you know. The British Ministry still believes he's a death eater in hiding."

"So that's why he died his hair black…"

"What?"

"I recognized him at the London Apparition Port on the way here. How did he pass security?"

"He lied, of course. A little too good at it, if I might add… Anyway, the rest of the Order and I believe that it's our duty to clear his name."

"Why?" she demanded sharply, forgetting to whisper.

"Because he shouldn't have to live the rest of his life in hiding. He gave us some very useful information, Hermione. Don't forget. Without it, I wouldn't have succeeded. It's the least we can do to repay him."

"But he only did it for his own benefit! He has no sense of loyalty, only to himself. It benefited _him_ to join our side!" she exclaimed, needing to make him understand.

"That doesn't matter! He did what he did, and we're just getting him out of a spot of trouble, here. I don't want to owe him anything."

"BUT HE KILLED RON, HARRY!" Hermione burst into tears and fell to the floor in a heap of racking sobs.

"No. Greyback did, you know that," Harry said softly, sinking to the floor next to her.

"He as good as killed him. Greyback would have never come to the battle if Malfoy hadn't called for him. Malfoy killed him, Harry, he did. And you let him into your _house?_"

"I know, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Hermione. But there's nothing we can do. Ron died for the good of this world. It was seven years ago. It's time to move on."

"I can't. I never will. Do you know what he said to me, Harry? You know what his last words were, as I leaned over his mangled body?"

Harry shook his head, slowly. He looked close to tears.

"He told me he loved me," she whispered. "Said he always had. And then he died before I could return the words."

Harry stared at her for a few moments, unsure of what to say. Then he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

"It'll be alright for you. One day, it will," he said. "You'll see."

Hermione closed her eyes to stop the tears. She had been waiting for that day for far too long. It was nice of him to say, but there was no such a day, and she knew it.


	3. Decisions and Reluctant Favors

**A Song for Lonely Hill**

**A/N**: _Yeah, so here's the next one. Hope you like it! The story is so far moving slowly, but we'll get to the interesting stuff soon, I promise._

Decisions and Reluctant Favors---

The next morning Hermione awoke in a comfortable, but strange bed. It took her a few confused moments to remember where she was and why her face was all wet. She pulled the covers over her head in frustration as the events from the previous night washed over her.

She had never told Harry what Ron had said until then, and she wasn't entirely sure why. It was like she didn't want it to be true. She had wanted to forget what he had said, to escape the pain. They had loved each other for a painfully long time, and had done nothing. All those miniscule moments back in school- for nothing. Ron was the one who had to pay the price for their idiocy.

Her eyes automatically scanned the bedroom for a clock. She spotted it. Eleven in the morning.

Hermione forced herself out of bed, threw her hair together and entered the living room, in the same clothes as the night before.

Many of the guests had returned. Evidently everyone was invited for the big day. Mrs. Weasley was already busy with breakfast. Lupin and Tonks were chatting animatedly with Fleur and Bill. They looked like the happiest couples in the world, to Hermione.

To her slight annoyance, Malfoy was also awake, sitting on the couch alone, glowering at everyone. He had a plate of untouched bacon in front of him. Every now and then, she noticed, his hand twitched, as though to reach for a piece, but then thought better of it, clearly not trusting a blood-traitor's cooking. Eventually his hunger overthrew his arrogance, and he crammed the bacon rudely into his mouth. Hermione had to fight hard to suppress a laugh. _What a prick._

She sat down in the nearest armchair, hoping no one would acknowledge her. She was unfortunate.

"Hermione, dear, come have a spot of breakfast," Mrs. Weasley cooed. Reluctantly, Hermione filled her plate and took a very, very small bite of toast. She didn't feel like eating.

Harry and Ginny entered together, looking stressed but excited. They both glanced towards her, nervousness all over their faces. Obviously Harry had filled Ginny in on Hermione's emotional breakdown. Pity and sympathy were just intolerable at this point. It was too much.

"Ginny, I don't feel like eating. I feel rather sick, I think I'll get home," she said in what she hoped was a convincingly apologetic way.

"But Hermione, it's the big day!"

"And I don't want to ruin it by puking all over you."

"You won't have time to get through the Apparation Port! You'll miss it!"

"Then I'll grab a hotel or something, I'll manage."

"You said you had no money!"

"I'll be fine, I'll scrounge something together, I always do. Can you just… Call me on my cell phone if it happens?" She grabbed a piece of loose paper and a pen and began scribbling hastily. "Here's my number, you know how to use a muggle telephone, right?"

"Yeah, I got us one in case of situations like this," said Harry, fortunately giving in to Ginny's repeated stammers of "No!" and "Big Day!" and others of that sort. He evidently saw right through to the real reason Hermione was bailing on them.

She knew she was being very unfair to them both, but right now her emotions were unstable. If another person mentioned Ron, she might just crack on the spot. Hermione was two steps away from the door when someone else spoke.

"I think I'll be going as well, Potter."

"Seriously, Malfoy, I'm trying to do you a favor, repay you for-"

"I don't need any _favors_ from you. I have plenty of money to stay wherever I like. You can still get me out of this mess, by all means, do, but I don't want to stay _here_ for a moment longer," he sneered.

"Well, goodbye then, if you don't need me," said Harry, trying and failing to conceal the look of disgust on his face.

Malfoy strode to the exit, pushed Hermione out of the way and began strutting down the corridor without a word of thanks.

She followed, trying to make as little sound as possible to keep him from realizing she was behind him.

And then it slipped out of her, before she really thought about what she was saying-

"Why are you accepting help, Malfoy?"

He stopped dead in his tracks. A few intense, regretful seconds later he whipped around to face her, anger evident all over his face. He looked as if he was about to say something truly horrible, or hit her, but he took a few deep breaths and she was surprised.

"Because I need it," his tone was even, but his eyes clearly wished her a slow, painful death.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. This wasn't the answer she had expected.

"I thought Malfoys wouldn't sink so low," she said mockingly. She knew she was testing him, dangerously so, but the satisfaction she gained from seeing how angry he was made it more than worth it.

"It is degrading, yes, but I'm sick of having to disguise myself everywhere I go. A few months of shame are a fair price to pay for my freedom."

She could think of nothing to say to this.

"Done interrogating me, Granger?" he drawled, looking as insanely and profusely bored as ever.

She nodded… skeptically.

"Good." He turned around haughtily and continued strutting down the hall in that awful way of his. Soon they reached the elevator.

Reluctantly, she joined him, wishing for the five-hundredth time that they could travel by magic.

The travel down the lift and out onto the street went far too slowly. It was only when they entered the street and he strolled promptly away from her that she took in a deep lungful of air in relief. _Glad that's over with._

Next second it hit Hermione that she had absolutely _no_ idea where to stay. She was in New York, where there were no cheap hotels whatsoever. Even if she did know where the hell the nearest hotel was, could she afford it? Would she be reduced to sleeping on a bench?

_Malfoy probably knows what he's doing. He's so arrogant he's probably going to the most expensive hotel he can find, just to prove he can._

But did he really have money, or was that just his talk? Why _would_ he have money? His father Lucius, Hermione knew for fact, had gone clinically insane and destroyed the entire Malfoy fortune in fifteen minutes. The pressure had got to him, and it tore their family apart. That's when Saint Draco Malfoy came blabbing away the location of Voldemort to Harry Potter himself, therefore beginning the final battle that would end evil forever.

_So really_, she thought_, there is no reason for him to have any money at all. He can't possibly have a job, he's in hiding._

It was time to swallow her pride, follow Malfoy and find out. _Who knows, he may have somewhere cheap to stay…_

"Hey Malfoy! MALFOY!" she shouted after him, hobbling as fast as she could in her too-small boots.

She could visibly see him sigh deeply, as though terribly annoyed by her.

"What?" he said irritably, fingering his impossibly pale blonde hair.

"I… Shouldn't you change your hair? Someone'll spot you."

"_That's_ why you stopped me? To tell me to re-dye my hair?"

"Well… No. But you still should." He glared at her with the utmost loathing. "Look, I know this is really weird but…" Hermione was already regretting entering this conversation.

"Yes…?"

"I have no place to stay."

"So that _was_ all talk, back at Weasle-Potter's? Hah," he laughed coldly. "I knew it."

"Anyway," she continued, ignoring this, "I was wondering if you knew, you know, where the best hotels were. Or the cheapest, anyhow."

"Granger, you're in _New York_. There _are_ no cheap hotels."

"Shit. Well, what am I supposed to do then, huh?"

He let out another horrendously exaggerated sigh. "I _could_ pull a few strings at this place I'm staying. You know, for an old friend," he smirked, infuriating Hermione even more.

"And how do you have any money in the first place?"

For the first time he looked honestly unsettled.

"I… I suppose there's no harm in telling you, you clearly already know. I don't have money, due to my wretched father. I just go to the right places and talk to the right people. Malfoys are still high in the muggle world, despite what you might believe. I'll get you a room at this nice place not far from here. As long as you don't mind sleeping in the same building as a Malfoy?"

His eyes narrowed. Was she was up to the challenge? "Of… Of course not." She took a deep breath... "Thanks."

He didn't offer a word of welcome, but Hermione didn't care. Draco Malfoy had just offered her a place to stay and it was on him. If that wasn't progress, she didn't know what was.


	4. Apologies and Determination

**A Song for Lonely Hill**

Apologies and Determination---

_The room is really very nice_, she reasoned. It was indeed. Malfoys did have contacts in high places, though only with muggles, for the Malfoy name was scum lately among most wizards.

_I could fall asleep right now…_ It was the most comfortable mattress she had ever touched, let alone slept on. With the enormous wooden shades drawn over the windows, it was deliciously dark, just the way Hermione preferred. With the lights on, you could see the elegant cream walls and deep black shag carpet. She relished in the lovely glass desk perched directly in front of the ceiling to floor window. It revealed a glorious scene of night time in New York, which was really quite beautiful despite Hermione's dislike for the city.

Malfoy had said he would provide a room, but it was so much more than that. The bathroom included a luxurious Jacuzzi that could have easily fit three people, though the suite was designed for one.

Best of all was the mini-fridge, filled with absolutely priceless wines and various alcohol that Hermione had to force herself not to gulp down straight away. Though Malfoy was providing her his hospitality, his generosity certainly wouldn't stretch to include anything else she consumed while remaining there.

As repulsive as it sounded, she would have to find a way to repay him. Her inner morality demanded it. If only work at the lab paid a little better…

The next morning, Hermione awoke relaxed and rested for the first time in months.

Jumping into action, she threw on some fresh clothes, got her stuff together and bolted out the door to meet Harry and Ginny. She frantically zoomed down the hallway, ignoring disgusted looks from the staff, clutching her phone for any sign of baby time. She felt just awful for being so rude to them the other day, that she was determined to make it up by surprising them nice and early.

Then Hermione ran directly into the very last person she needed to see right now.

"Slow down, Granger, you almost took my arm off," Malfoy drawled.

"Sorry." Again, she prepared herself for what would require all of the control she could muster. "Er… I just wanted to thank you for getting the room for me, it's really very nice." The words had flown out of her mouth so quickly that she doubted he understood a single word of it.

He seemed to struggle with himself for a minute, then-

"No… No problem." His lip curled into what was unmistakably, yet unbelievably a _smile_. Yes, a _smile_, not a smirk. It was strained, but still there on his face. It was an act of Merlin himself.

Hermione stood dumbstruck for a full ten seconds staring at him, then nodded weakly and stalked off, resisting the temptation to turn around and gape a little more.

Then, remembering her mission, she burst immediately into action and flew out the doorway and down the streets of New York, racking her brain for the correct street name.

By twelve in the afternoon she arrived at the apartment and opened the door to find Ginny sitting on the couch with her mother and father, all looking very tense and expectant. Hermione watched Ginny stroking her stomach absentmindedly, while Mrs. Weasley glanced at her watch at regular intervals with very tired-looking eyes.

"Hermione!" said Harry, coming from another room and wringing his hands in anticipation. Once her presence was acknowledged by the two women, their faces at last showed a sign of warmth.

"I just wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday," she began, "I was emotionally distressed, but now I'm here and ready to celebrate. Forgive me?"

"Of course. We completely understand," Ginny said, kindly.

Hermione sat down and all awkwardness was forgotten. Every so often in mid-sentence Ginny would jump up, wide-eyed, and the room would erupt in gasps and lunges for pillows and various baby-time items, but then she would end up just needing to go to the bathroom and everyone would collapse back down again.

"Stop scaring us like that!" they would exclaim.

All were exhausted after a few hours of the constantly mounting tension and disappointment. Ginny kept insisting that it wasn't going to happen today.

"Our babies aren't ready, Harry, I can feel it, I know it." Still, no one relaxed.

Eventually the conversation turned to Draco Malfoy.

"Did I tell you Malfoy _smiled_ at me this morning?" said Hermione.

"No! He _didn't_," said Ginny, mouth open.

"I swear it. Not a smirk, an actual smile. I made quite a fool of myself and gaped at him openly."

"Maybe it's his way of apologizing," said Harry knowledgably, "for everything he put you through at Hogwarts."

"It seemed very forced, though, you know? He still resents me. I can't believe anyone would still be prejudiced against muggleborns after the war and all that, but some people never change," she sighed.

"I suppose not. He still outright detests me, but I give him credit for trying to turn himself around. Even he deserves that," Harry said.

A sudden curiosity struck Hermione. Why _was_ Malfoy trying to apologize, if that was it at all? Could someone like him ever turn himself around? _Unlikely…_ she thought.

Was it an act? A fake smile plastered to his face to somehow in some twisted way benefit himself? She couldn't imagine how that would be.

_But anyone can always turn themselves around_, she knew. Any person always has the chance to go back and redeem themselves at any point in their lives, no matter the circumstances. It was a philosophy that Hermione had always believed in. A philosophy she _needed_ to believe in.

He could do it, if the outcome would be beneficial to himself. And it would be… Regaining the old Malfoy respect, getting an important, well paying job, anything. For him, the possibilities were endless.

And not only would it help _him_... The world would be spared of his damnable pureblood pride. He might even be able to use his intelligence to improve the world, though that might be stretching it a bit.

_I'm going to help Malfoy_, she decided right then and there. _He needs a little push to get him off his feet, and I'm here and willing._

But she wasn't fooling herself. Not really.

Hermione needed to believe that someone as low sunk as Malfoy could go back and change what used to be set in stone. If he could do it… _anyone _could do it.

_I could do it…_

In Hermione's opinion, her life couldn't be less worthy. She had never felt so lost in ages, so devoid of purpose. So many opportunities had been available to her not too long ago. Her future had been wide open. Everyone was expecting great things from clever Miss Granger, the brightest student to leave Hogwarts since Tom Riddle himself.

But those opportunities had long faded. Great things had not come to pass. And it was her fault, her pathetic stubbornness and lack of ambition…

Her mind was set. She was determined to turn Malfoy around, whatever the cost.

Draco Malfoy was going to be a new person. And in the process, so was Hermione.


	5. Satisfaction and Hastiness

**A Song for Lonely Hill**

Satisfaction and Hastiness---

Ginny had predicted correctly- Little Lily and Ronald Potter were not born on the predicted date. Nor were they born the day after that or even the day after that. Frustration was high and tension was constantly in the air. Hermione felt like she lived at Harry and Ginny's apartment, though regularly returning to her hotel room at an ungodly hour. Always there, always waiting…

She hadn't even gotten started on what she called "Project: Redeem Malfoy", though often found her mind subconsciously planning ways to get inside his head, make him see sense.

Four days after the due date, Hermione was once again drinking Mrs. Weasley's famous tea and resting on a couch in Harry's apartment. It was silent. No one could think of anything to say anymore. The small talk had long since run out. The regular visitors had stopped coming, leaving only Harry, Ginny, Mr. And Mrs. Weasley and Hermione. Hermione sipped her tea a little too loudly and tapped her foot nervously to fill the hollow silence. Then –

"Oh my…"

"What is it this time, Ginny?" Mr. Weasley said, concealing his exhausted nature rather badly.

"I… I think my water just broke."

For a moment everyone froze. Harry was the first to come out of his reverie.

"Well, what are we waiting for- GO!" he shouted. Everyone zoomed into carefully rehearsed action, grabbing bags and pillows and other baby items.

Within four minutes they were out the door, down the elevator and out onto the street. "Good job. Now…" Harry said, looking nervously around at them all. "Here we either run sixteen blocks with a woman in labor," Ginny, panting, looked as though she could barely handle one block. "_Or_, we… err… take a cab."

It was clear that he had never taken a muggle cab in his life.

"How can you live in New York and never have taken a cab?" Hermione said, scowling.

"I just never needed to, I guess. We don't get out much, you know." She restrained herself from rolling her eyes with difficulty. He really was a wizard now- no trace of the young, ignorant pre-Hogwarts Harry remained in that sheepish grin.

Mr. Weasley looked absolutely delighted at the prospect. "Can I do it? I love these muggle substitutes they use instead of apparating." he said, very enthusiastically.

Hermione raised her eyebrows, but otherwise gave no sign of skeptism. It was Mrs. Weasley who voiced her apprehension first.

"I think Hermione should it, dear. It certainly looks as though she knows how."

"Yes, I read something on it when looking up New York transportation in a book somewhere." She stuck out her arm, and hailed a cab surprisingly well for a non-New Yorker. Ah, the uses and rewards of diligent research.

Eight exhausting, strenuous, trying hours later, Harry emerged from the delivery room and into the hallway where Hermione, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were all waiting anxiously.

"It's done," he panted, beaming at them all.

"And how are they?" said Mrs. Weasley, biting her nails.

"Healthy. As perfect as we could ever want."

Hermione and Mr. Weasley immediately jumped up to congratulate him, but Mrs. Weasley burst into hysterically happy tears, simply unable to move from her seat.

"How's Ginny?" asked Hermione, embracing him.

"She's resting, you'll be able to visit her tomorrow, I think. And the babies."

So she went back to the hotel, exhausted and mind pounding with a terrible headache that was surely due to her heinous lack of sleep.

Funny, how when at times you most want and need to go to sleep, you just can't achieve it. She lay in her bed, waiting desperately for sleep to wash over her, but she found no release. Next door, Malfoy was blasting some horribly loud music that surely carried through the entire building. Why was no one stopping him?

After several hours, Hermione admitted defeat. There was nothing for it. The music was driving her absolutely insane. She left her room and irritably pounded on his door until he opened it, his blonde tresses swinging in his face and giving him a most haughty and obnoxious appearance.

"What?" She frowned. He was back to his old self.

"Do you _have_ to blast that _awful_ music so loudly?" Hermione said, not even attempting to keep a note of politeness in her voice. "You'll wake the whole building."

"I'll turn it down," he said, rolling his eyes. Immediately she remembered her vow to help him become a better person. He turned to close the door, but she grabbed his arm.

"Wait!"

"_What_…?" He looked really agitated now.

"Why did you smile at me this morning?" she blurted, not thinking of the consequences.

Malfoy didn't answer, he was looking extremely perplexed. She continued.

"Why were you being polite? Why do you keep acting nice, then reverting back rude and arrogant? Why did you give me a room?"

"I told you before. I need to be free again, this life of imprisonment is no longer tolerable," he said in his usual bored, drawling tone.

"Not the whole story," she said determinedly.

"What else do you think I'm hiding? What other motivations could I need?"

"I'm not sure, but it doesn't explain why you've offered _me_ room or why you are friendly to _me._ I am of no benefit to you."

For a moment he just stood there, an eyebrow raised. Then he said, "You're more intelligent than you look, Granger."

"Does that mean you're going to tell me?"

"Come in, and perhaps I will."

His intentions were hard to determine. What was he thinking? Hermione looked at him for a long time, but his features remained frustratingly blank. She had never been good at legilimency.

But how bad could it be? If he was planning something unpleasant, she would hex him and apparate out of there.

_I have nothing to lose._

Reluctantly, she followed him inside.

If she had thought her room was glamorous, it was nothing… _Nothing_ compared to Malfoy's.

Hermione sat down and waited, her knee jiggling nervously.

"So," he began, but she interrupted him.

"Are you trying to turn yourself around?" Hermione found herself acting before she thought about it, once again.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Are you trying to redeem yourself? Because Harry said-"

"Oh, if perfect ickle _Potter _said so, it must be true, eh?" he shot at her, flaring up suddenly at the mention of Harry.

"He _said_," she persisted, trying and failing to get that irrepressible bossiness out of her voice, "that maybe you're trying to become a better person, for not only your own benefit but for other's."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed dangerously. Hermione immediately knew that she had gone too far.

"Don't pretend you know me. I'm not a good person, it's who I am. I'm not changing that."

"But even the fact that you're aware you're not a good person is a start!"

"Don't you _dare_ turn me into one of your pathetic _spew_ projects."

"I'm not-"

"I want you to get out of here. I have nothing to tell you."

"But you said-"

"Out. _Now."_

She turned on the spot and apparated back to her room, breathing heavily. _This is going to be a lot more difficult than I thought…_


	6. Persistence and Results

**A Song for Lonely Hill**

**A/N**: _Thanks to those who reviewed, I really appreciate it! This is the chapter where we actually get somewhere with their relationship. It's going slow, I know, but I need to do their character developments justice. They can't instantly fall in love after everything that's happened._

_Another note- I use the f word in here, but I'm not changing the rating because it's only once. Just a warning.._

Persistence and Results---

Over the next couple of weeks, Hermione tried and tried again to get through to Malfoy. She would pound on his door for hours, until he finally opened it out of sheer irritation. She'd then immediately begin firing questions at him, and he'd hex her periodically. That was how it went for a while, until Hermione began to change tactics.

She called his hotel room number, only to have him hang up and eventually stop answering calls all together.

She slipped notes under his door, urging him to open up to her. Most often he simply ignored these, though occasionally he would slip them back into her room, but in the form of ash. After charming the sheets of paper to be impossible to light on fire, he would write profanities all over them in red marker and send them right back.

"Malfoy is still incredibly immature," she would tell Ginny when she visited her in the hospital, showing her the paper that displayed a crude drawing of Hermione with her head being chopped off.

"You're becoming obsessed with this, Hermione. Give it up, he's a lost cause," Harry advised her, and Ginny agreed.

But she persisted, despite the consistent warnings from her friends.

It wasn't until a month after she had made her vow that she finally got some worthy results.

Hermione had been on her way back from Harry and Ginny's, who were now frantically trying to figure out how to be parents and needed all the help they could get, and was exhausted. But her tiredness seemed to melt away when she saw a sheet of paper on the floor in her room that was _not_ written on with red marker. She excitedly snatched it up and read his answers to her questions:

"Dear Malfoy,

I know you have been avoiding me over the past few weeks, but I refuse to give up pursuing you. Please take the time to answer the following questions. -Hermione

1. Why do you think you're a bad person?

_As it has been around two weeks since you began shoving these blasted things under my door, I have come to the conclusion that the only way to end this ridiculousness is to actually answer the infernal questions._

_Why I hate myself? Oh, where to start? I have always made bad choices in my life. You could say it wasn't my fault- that I was raised the way I was and couldn't help how I turned out, and that was what I used to tell myself, but I know better now. It was how I chose to use the position I was in, that makes me a bad person. I was hungry for power, for any kind of glory, and you obviously know how that turned out._

2. How did you feel about becoming a death eater and the daunting task you were set?

_At first I was proud to serve him. I was finally going to live up to what I had been boasting about my whole life. But that was just it- I couldn't. Suddenly, at sixteen, I reached the age where I began questioning my parents and their choices. Not only could I emotionally not accomplish this task, but my heart wasn't even in it anymore. I found I didn't care whether Voldemort destroyed all mudbloods or not. The only reason I worked on my task tirelessly was to avoid my family's death, which, as I should have realized, was imminent anyway._

3.Do you still hate Harry, Dumbledore and all muggle-borns?

_Yes, yes and not as much anymore, I'm afraid._"

Hermione stared at that paper for a very long time. Were her eyes deceiving her? Were these his honest answers to her questions? It was very enlightening. It was almost as if she understood him and his motives. Of course there was no excuse for what he had done, but it was also clear, especially in his answer to the first question, that he regretted his mistakes.

She was burning to know more. Dare she knock, or leave him another "blasted thing" under his door?

Her curiosity overcame her attempts not to be rash. Hermione hastily scribbled out a second interrogation and crept into the hall to slip it in his room, hoping to Merlin that she wouldn't see it returned covered in drawings of her being decapitated.

She was lucky. Malfoy seemed to have decided it was useless to ignore it, having learned long ago that she does not give up easily.

His next message was in the form of a large paragraph, written in shaky, angry handwriting that seemed to have been written after having one too many alcoholic beverages from his private hotel supply.

"Dear Malfoy,

I would like to say that I really appreciate your reply, and that I hope it won't be too much trouble to ask for another. Instead of putting this in question form, as the previous letter, I invite you to say anything you want. Anything at all that you think might interest me, or would take a weight off your shoulders to tell someone.

_Are you my fucking psychiatrist now? Do you feel it's your obligation to help me out? I say help for want of a better word. Alright, I'll stoop down to your level. So. What do you want to know? Why I don't hate mudbloods anymore? Please note that I still say mudbloods, and that I have not entirely lost my old swagger. After the war, as I'm sure you realize, there was a sort of movement, a public feeling of dropping the prejudice against mudbloods. The ministry didn't parade it at first, but once they were on board, you'd have an easier time finding a needle in a pile of hay than finding another person who'd willingly say 'mudblood'. You know this, of course. After my time in Azkaban, I realized that the whole thing was rather idiotic. You're either magic or you're not, it has been chemically proven that being a pureblood means absolutely nothing. Like Longbottom. So you could say I regret how I treated you, but, and I don't mean to use this as an excuse, just a fact, I was brainwashed by my father and had no idea what I was saying and if it had any truth behind it at all. It took me quite a while to give up my old ways, but I'm more mature than that now. You must be thrilled to hear this, right? I, your worst enemy back in school, admitting he was wrong. For the record, I'm not like that anymore."_

He was quite right. She was thrilled.


	7. Demand and Confession

**A Song for Lonely Hill**

**A/N**: _I'm thinking of changing the rating to M, because it's beginning to feel untrue to the characters to refrain from swearing. I'll see what happens when I begin writing the next one._

_Thanks again to reviewers, my review number has jumped drastically lately, yay! They really keep me motivated to continue._

Demand and Confession---

"No way."

"Yes."

"No fucking way. He actually _wrote_ this?"

"Harry! Lily and Ronald could _hear _you!" interjected a shocked Ginny.

"Oops, sorry, Ginny. So he did?"

"Yep."

"I can't believe it…" said Harry, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"I guess it's expected. I mean, he's had no one to talk to his whole life. The man really needs to blow off some pent up steam," Ginny said wisely.

"That's true."

"And he's still paying for your hotel room?" Harry said interestedly.

"He is…" evaded Hermione.

A small silence greeted these words. Hermione knew that Harry and Ginny had been wondering together why on earth she was still living on Malfoy's charity. Hermione was about to change the subject, when-

"You really don't _have_ to stay here any longer, we're okay on our own now. You can go back to London. We're fine without help. I think I've even figured out what each of their different cries mean!" said Ginny proudly.

As if on cue, Lily (or Ronald) burst into hysterical sobs in the next room. "He's hungry, I think. It's your turn, Harry."

Harry wearily shook his head and went into the next room.

"Well, I'd better get going." Hermione grabbed her things and was on her way to the door when Ginny interrupted her.

"You don't… _want_ to stay do you? With him?" She was too damn insightful for her own good.

"Well…"

"Hermione!"

"I feel like I'm getting somewhere with Malfoy, you know? I may have finally opened him up!"

"But it's not your business to open him up! Why bother staying?"

"Because… Because…" She trailed off. The answer was too personal. She wanted anyone but Ginny or Harry to realize how insecure and unhappy she was under the mask of perfection she constantly wore. Should she tell the truth, or a slightly modified _version_ of the truth?

"Work is slow back at London, and it's more fun here with you guys," Hermione said, a little too quickly.

"And it has nothing to do with him?" said Ginny, looking suspicious.

"Nothing. Nothing, really. He's just… something on the _side. _ I just like being with you guys."

Ginny smiled, looking at least halfway convinced. Hermione said her goodbyes, left, and breathed a sigh of relief when she was safely out in the hallway. That was way too close. She could not risk exposing herself like that again. Then she heard Harry's voice through the door.

"Aaw, look, she's smiling at me!"

"Of course, she's smiling at you, you're her father," said Ginny, as if this was obvious.

"I still can't get used to that, being a _father_…"

Hermione walked away, not wanting to hear any more. A moment like that should have made her feel happy, but it only increased the gnawing, deadened feeling inside her. Why couldn't she have that? Why was she jealous at her friend's success? Why couldn't she feel happy, ever?

When Hermione arrived back at her hotel room, she was thoroughly depressed. But then she saw another note under her door. She hastily picked it up. It read-

_Now that I've given you what you want, I want something in return. I'm not stupid, unlike your blind little friends. I know you're unhappy. I can see it, I can feel it radiating from you every time we happen to cross paths._

_I want to know why. You answer me this, and we're even. And I don't want any more correspondence after your reply, I'm sick of it. I've already given too much away in my drunken stupors. I don't want you to know any more. I hope you will take the hint and get the hell out of that room I've so graciously paid for._

_In your return letter, I would like you to state that you will not bother me any longer, that you will be leaving as soon as possible, and something about yourself you have never told anyone before. Something you know would interest me, or would explain why you're unhappy, so I can stop feeling stupid for writing you those stupid letters and telling you about my stupid problems. It's all about getting even, life, isn't it?_

_Malfoy_

At first she was shocked that he saw right through her act like no one else had. But in order to delay thinking about how that could possibly be, Hermione focused on his blatant demand of her to get out. She had thought she was getting somewhere with him! Was all of this a waste of time? Should she really give up?

Her instinctive answer was no. But her realistic answer was yes. It was not wise to mess with a Malfoy, she had learned that long ago. Unpleasant past experiences told her that if she sent him another letter, he would hex her into the next century.

Maybe it _was_ time she went back to London. Maybe it was time she stopped taking days off work and started getting something done. Maybe it was time that she got on with her life.

Maybe she was wrong about him. Maybe he would never redeem himself.

She grabbed a sheet of paper, a pen, and began to write him back, not troubling to be quite as polite in her wording as in her previous letters.

_As you are so unceremoniously kicking me out, I guess I have no choice but to comply with your demands. I state that I will never bother you again, and that I will be out and off to London by late tomorrow morning. As I probably won't be seeing you in the future, I guess I'd better thank you again for paying for this room. I appreciate it. Honestly._

_On to your next request, then I suppose. Something I've never told anyone before? Something that explains why I'm unhappy? There are so many reasons. Here's one: Remember how I was back at school? Top grades in the year, best academic student to pass through Hogwarts in decades. Everyone expected so much from model student Hermione Granger. But I didn't deliver. I left school and began work at a laboratory that is unlikely to discover or accomplish anything useful at all. I thought I could turn that misfortune around, but it's not happening, and I'm thinking it never will._

_But every now and then, when I'm pondering how unsuccessful I am, I come to a realization. And here's the secret- I realize that I _chose_ to be unsuccessful, just to prove to everyone, just to show them that I'm more than the perfect student, more than Harry Potter's sidekick. I determined my own miserable future, I set it in stone. It's all my fault. And I regret it._

_And that, Malfoy, is why I'm unhappy._


	8. Triumph and Appreciation

**A Song for Lonely Hill**

**A/N**: _This one's here a little early this week, it came to me pretty easily. This scene is one of the few moments I had planned out in my head. This whole thing is pretty spontaneous, as you've probably noticed. But the farther I move long, the closer I get to understanding exactly where this is going and exactly how I want the characters to develop in the end._

_Please note that WWN stands for Wizarding Wireless Network._

Triumph and Appreciation---

A mere twenty hours or so after Malfoy had commanded her to leave, Hermione had already returned to her flat in London, and was trying not to feel incredibly depressed. She had failed her task. Malfoy could never redeem himself, despite her efforts. And this meant, inevitably, that she couldn't either.

So it was back to the regular schedule of things. She went to work for eight hours a day, periodically receiving and sending letters to Harry and Ginny after coming home. She suspected that they were growing unbelievably bored with her letters, which always seemed to start with or at least include, "Hey, it's Hermione. Not much has happened here etc." Because nothing ever did happen. She found herself making up little stories about her work days just to enhance her letters a bit for her friend's sake. She rather thought she had lost her prestige at writing interesting letters after the disastrous exchange with Malfoy.

It was all Hermione could think about. Was it her fault that she couldn't get more out of him? Or was he simply an arrogant bastard who had never really talked to anyone in his life and wasn't about to start?

One of Hermione's faults was that she tended to blame herself for everything- Therefore she made herself feel better by lounging on the couch, turning on the WWN, and consuming indecently large amounts of alcohol and ice cream while thinking about the disappointments in her life. This was how it continued for the next couple of months. Ice cream, beer, depression, beer, ice cream…

At this particular moment, she was pondering how pathetic her love life was. And although she had treated herself to a couple of flings along the line, she hadn't been in a serious relationship since… _ever._

_It was seven years ago, Hermione_, she told herself,_ It's time to move on._

But she didn't move on. The truth was that she was scared of being in a relationship with someone, even if she _was_ deeply attracted to them. It felt like a betrayal to Ron, and to what they could have had.

She promptly scooped a fistful of strawberry ice cream and stuffed it into her mouth unceremoniously at this thought. _Who gives a shit, anyway?_

But then the door bell rang. She jumped up immediately, glancing around at her pathetic excuse for a living room. Everything was jumbled around, ice cream leaking onto the coffee table, empty beer bottles scattered everywhere. Not to mention her current attire- pajama pants and a Weird Sisters t-shirt that Tonks gave to her ages ago and was now far too small.

_It's probably someone I know well, no one else has my address._ _Who cares if they see me like this?_

Hermione peeled herself off the couch, walked to the door and opened it. She had to open and close her eyes a few times to be sure of what she seeing.

But it was, unmistakably, Malfoy.

"Malfoy," she said, firmly, pretending not to be as shocked as she was.

"Granger," he replied, just as resolutely.

"How did you find me?"

"Oh, it wasn't that hard…"

She didn't press him to elaborate, instead blinking at him stupidly in the evening light.

"Well, are you going to invite me in, or not?" he said, his messy hair and downtrodden appearance a direct contradiction to his manner.

"I don't think so, Malfoy. I'm about to leave," she lied smoothly.

"Are you?" he said skeptically, raising an indicating eyebrow at her pajamas.

"Yes, I am."

He seemed to be struggling about something internally, his eyes darting around nervously, and his fists clenched, as though trying to bite back some hideous retort.

Then he cracked, bursting out-

"God, I can't stand it… I can't…"

"Spit it out, I have somewhere to be," said Hermione, feigning impatience.

"I need you, Granger."

"Excuse me?"

"I need you."

"…. _What?_" Now _this_ made no sense.

"I need you to help me, I need you to be near me. I can't stand not talking to anyone. I mean, I've talked to people, but no one listens. No one understands. No one ever understands. No one tries. But you do," he said earnestly, taking a step forward.

She suddenly felt incredibly light-headed. "I need to lie down."

"You're the first person I've ever told what I _really_ think. First who I've ever… opened myself up to, I guess. It was hard at first… I tried to cut off contact with you so I wouldn't become one of those over-emotional sissies, but I couldn't do it. Now that I've started, I can't stop. I have to let it out."

"Talking about your feelings doesn't make you a sissy," she said straight-forwardly. He winced at this, then continued.

"It's killing me, Granger. You're killing me by abandoning me."

"I was under the impression that _you_ had abandoned _me_," said Hermione, rather sharply.

"But you're the one who left!" he shouted.

"You told me to leave!"

"You didn't have to!"

"This is ridiculous. You're ridiculous. What do you want, Malfoy, what in hell do you _want_?"

He seemed to calm a little. "First of all, I want to come inside, if you would be so kind. Then, if you have the time, I have to let go of this burden. I have to tell you everything I've kept bottled up for all these years, because if I don't I'll explode."

She led him inside, her insides squirming with suppressed triumph. _So he's not hopeless after all! I actually made progress with him!_

"Yeah, I've got time. I can cancel my… er… appointment."

"Suuure," he smirked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Shut up," she snapped, well aware that there was no such an appointment.

They sat down on the couch, Malfoy scanning her flat with barely concealed shock on his face at the state of things.

Before he could comment, she said, "So. What do you want to say, or, rather, get off your chest?"

Hermione felt as though she were a psychiatrist of some sort. She listened intently as Malfoy literally poured out his feelings and decisions and regrets. It was hard not to scoff at some of the awful things he had done, the lives he had ruined.

But as he went on and on until it was nearly two in the morning, she couldn't help but appreciate that he at least knew what he had done was wrong or unjust.

She yawned hugely in the middle of one of his sentences and declared that she was too exhausted to continue.

"Can I crash at your place?" he asked tentatively. "I don't feel like going back to my apartment. I assume you can't disapparate around here?"

"No, there's a ten block radius of non-apparation zone for my protection, thanks to the ministry," she added scathingly.

"Well, in that case, I must stay. My place is miles from here."

She could not see a way around it. "Fine. This sofa is a pullout, so you'll sleep in here."

He looked as though he might vomit at the prospect, but instead nodded his head as if he was facing his last sleep. _What a spoiled brat…_

She turned to leave for her bedroom, but he interrupted her.

"And Granger?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

She smiled sincerely and closed the door behind her.


	9. Fight and Friendship

**A Song for Lonely Hill**

**A/N**: _Sorry it's a day late. I usually try to get these out every Wednesday, but I was pretty sick for two days and couldn't really go on the computer. I'll try not to let it happen again, but sometimes real life gets in the way, sadly._

Fight and Friendship---

Hermione returned from work the following afternoon in a towering temper. She had just had a major fight with her boss for presenting a new concept that was, admittedly, quite out there.

"That's what this company is about right?" she had screamed at him, "Breaking through with revolutionary ideas!"

"Miss Granger, I'm going to be frank with you. Your way of thinking is no longer cohesive with the rest of the group. We all need to work together. Either you present concepts _inside_ the guidelines, or you get out."

Though as tempted as she was to walk out then and there, her paycheck was more important than her dignity.

Hermione was looking forward to a nice sleep on her warm bed when she got home. Instead, she found Malfoy still in her flat, lounging on her couch and drinking one of _her_ beers.

"Malfoy, what in _hell_ are you still doing here?" she burst out, the anger that had built up through the past few hours reaching danger point.

"Crashing?" he said, playing stupid.

"I said you could sleep here, not stay the whole day!"

"Well, you weren't clear."

"As long as you didn't mess anything up…" she muttered, eyeing her flat beadily for any sign of mishap.

"Hah! Like it could get any worse."

"Shut up, if you want me to help you out."

"Help? Who said anything about _help?_ You're just supposed to sit there while I spill my darkest and most desperate secrets," he drawled, looking at his fingernails in an extremely irritating fashion.

"You mean to say," she walked towards where he sat, her hands gripping the arm of the couch angrily, "that you don't care who you talk to? That _I_ have nothing to do with it? That I wouldn't even have to listen while you talk, not even attempt to pay attention, and you wouldn't care? I'm just a meaningless outlet that you _use_?"

"That's right," he said, smirking.

"You're so fucking proud in your own twisted screwed up way," she spat, firing up even more, "Oh yes, you'll take the help, but you won't admit that that's what it is. You sit there, you ungrateful piece of shit, while Harry and the Order try to get you out of a tight spot, and while I'm listening to all your life issues, out of the kindness of my heart."

"Ouch, Granger," Malfoy said, finally looking at her properly in the eye.

"You don't deserve it, but Harry gives it to you, because he's a _good person_. A concept you've hardly tried to understand, but a concept I'm trying to _help _you understand, possibly even embody."

And with that said, Hermione sat down next to him with a small 'humph', her arms folded and her expression cross.

"Have a bad day at work, or what?" His tone was dismissive, but there was something there that hadn't been before. He sounded sorry… She sighed, her temper melting away as quickly as it had come.

"Yeah, kinda. Got into a fight with my boss."

"About what?"

"You're just trying to get me to change the subject," she said wisely.

"So what if I am?"

"How's the appeal to the ministry coming?" she asked, not wanting to answer his question.

"Alright. They haven't actually seen me in court yet, because Potter thinks it's better to wait until they really understand why the Order's trying to pardon me of all charges. They don't trust me," he added, resentfully.

"Can you really blame them?"

"Admittedly, no," sighed Malfoy, pouring the last drops of beer into his mouth unceremoniously.

His words really confused her. _First he's proud and arrogant, the same old Malfoy, then he's admitting he did something wrong, then it's back again…I just don't understand his character._

"I don't get you, Malfoy."

"Hmm?"

"It's like there's two of you."

"Go on."

"You know what I'm talking about," she said straightforwardly.

"Are you sure you're up for another psyche session?"

"I've got nothing better to do, I suppose." Hermione relaxed into the couch and put her feet up on the coffee table, preparing for another long night.

"It's like my old self and this new Draco are battling with each other."

"New?"

"He's like a new person to me, trying to break through, but I suppress it, or rather, the old Draco does."

"Why do you suppress it?"

"Because it's natural instinct," he admitted. "This new Draco has different morals. He has an open mind. If I let him through…" At this point he buried his face in his hands, massaging his forehead in frustration.

"Nothing bad will happen if you let him through. Only good will come of it, Malfoy, you know that," said Hermione.

After a few seconds of silence, he looked up. "Will you do me a favor then?"

"Whatever, sure," she said reluctantly.

"Can you… Can you call me Draco? Not Malfoy?" he asked tentatively, as if afraid of her answer.

"I don't know… It would feel really weird. Like we're _friends_ or something," she said, laughing at the mere thought.

"Would that be so terrible?"

There was an intense pause. Hermione had no idea what to say. "I… _suppose_ not," she said nervously, after waiting for a full ten seconds to come up with an appropriate, yet _evasive_ response.

"Good then. It's about time I had a friend," he said simply, clapping his hands together as if her answer settled the matter. "I'm going back to my apartment, and I'll see you later… _friend_," he added, smirking.

Hermione thought that he couldn't shock her anymore, but how wrong she was. He promptly walked up to her, grabbed her hand, lifted it and kissed gently, as if this was something he had done to her every day.

"Malfoy's traditional goodbye," he said. And with that, he grabbed his coat, swept away and was out the door, without waiting for her reply.

She stood there for a long while afterwards. The spot on her hand where his lips had touched her was still tingling. And though as repulsed as Hermione was at the concept that she was actually friends with a Malfoy, she found herself liking this new Draco more and more.


	10. Letters and Malfoy Goodbyes

**A Song for Lonely Hill**

**A/N**: _Ahhhhh sorry! Had a little trouble with this chapter, but I think it turned out alright. As I get farther in the story, it gets harder for me to get each chapter perfect, so it'll take longer. Thank you to those who reviewed, I really appreciate every single one of them._

Letters and Malfoy Goodbyes---

A few days after she had officially become "friends" with Draco, he announced the he was going to defend his case at the British Ministry of Magic- The same case that Harry worked so hard to get passed. If Draco was to be cleared, then Harry would no longer owe him anything.

This meant that Harry was going to be in London for a few weeks, but unfortunately he wasn't able to stay at her house, as he explained in his letters.

_November 12, 2005_

_Dear Hermione,_

_Just thought I'd write to let you know that the appeal to the ministry for Malfoy has been accepted, finally. This means I'll be back in England! Sadly, I'll need to be right near the ministry around the clock to monitor things, so it's unlikely I'll get to see you. I expect that Ginny won't be coming. She says she'd suffer separation anxiety if she was away from Lily and Ron for that long. So I guess I'll be alone, unless you count Malfoy._

_We're having the trial in old courtroom ten. That should bring back some rather unpleasant memories right? Malfoy is being tried by the entire Wizengamot, and I'm a little nervous. I'm going to give evidence as a witness, and Scrimgeour is sure to grill me for every tiny detail. I think I'll be ready for him though. I'd better be or Malfoy goes right back to Azkaban and I'd still owe him. I just can't wait for this to be over with so I'm not in debt to a Malfoy any longer. I'll write when the trial is over to tell you how it went._

_Hope you're okay,_

_Harry_

Hermione waited anxiously for his next letter, often finding herself watching her window for any sign of approaching owls. She was also surprised at herself when she realized that she was not only missing Harry and Ginny, but that she was also missing Draco. It was rather strange without having his presence around her flat all the time. She had to stop herself from straightening up her living room, forgetting there was no one there to judge her.

What seemed like a decade later, a snowy white owl swooped through her window bearing an envelope. This letter was barely more than a sentence long, clearly Harry had only a few seconds to write it.

_November 17, 2005_

_Dear Hermione,_

_Trial's over. Draco Malfoy has been declared free by the court and can come out of hiding. I'm off to Apparate back home, then._

_Harry_

Her immediate reaction was relief. Finally, it was over. Harry could be at peace with himself at last.

But what did this mean for Draco? He was free again. Surely he wouldn't want to hang around her place for much longer. Did he need her as his personal shrink anymore? _Probably not,_ Hermione thought dully, surprised at herself for feeling so disappointed.

He hadn't redeemed himself yet, and she knew it. She felt she had barely scratched the surface. So far, all that had been accomplished was that he wasn't bottling up his emotions any longer. There was so far to go.

So how could she convince him to hang around? She had to prove to him that there was more to gain for himself. Luckily, Hermione didn't have to wait long. A few days after she had received the note from Harry, there was a knock on the door. Draco strolled in arrogantly as she opened it. He flopped down on her sofa and put his feet up.

"Draco, why are you here?" she asked tentatively, sitting on the chair opposite him. "I mean, you've said everything you need to say."

"That's true, I have. But I have a theory, and I think I'm right, that you have something you need to tell me," he said examining his fingernails.

"Where would you get that idea?"

"Well, when I was telling you about the final battle, how I sent for Greyback and all, you went all stiff and changed the subject hastily."

This was indeed true, and Hermione flinched at the memory and felt herself going cold. It had not been enjoyable to talk about Ron's murderer.

"So?" she said, as if the matter held no importance, but really trying to keep down the sudden lump in her throat by saying as little as possible.

"C'mon, Granger, really. There's no need to lie."

After a small silence, she replied, "Greyback killed Ron, Draco. At the battle." She said it softly, half-hoping he wouldn't hear it. "And you sent for him."

"You think it's my fault?" he said in a completely different voice than his usual drawling self.

"Yes," she said, still so quietly she was surprised he could understand. "I mean, I did think that. I don't know now. I blamed you for a very long time. I'm not sure if I blame you any more. It was seven years ago, I can't believe I'm still thinking about this."

Draco stared at her with an odd expression on his face. Was it pity? Regret? She buried her hands in her face, hoping it would make this conversation go away. She did _not_ want to talk about this, she couldn't stand it.

But then he interrupted her inner turmoil.

"I'm sorry," he said in a small voice.

"Excuse me?" she replied, looking up.

"I'm sorry about… about Weasley… I didn't mean… I didn't know… I'm sorry for bringing this up."

"No. It's okay. I guess I needed to let that out."

"Guess so."

"Shit, I'm a hypocrite," she said, slapping her forehead.

"What d'you mean?"

"Here I am, preaching to you to open up, to redeem yourself, to become a better person, even. But look at me!" her voice grew stronger, she stood up. "I'm no better than you, I'm worse! I haven't talked to anyone about how I really felt since school. And hardly even then. Shit, I'm screwed up."

"You're not screwed up, Granger, you're a much better person than me," he said, standing up as well.

"Oh, who're you kidding."

"You are talking to a former Death Eater, Hermione, seriously."

She laughed, despite herself.

"I guess we're both pretty messed up."

He laughed too. "Yeah, I suppose we are."

They stood there for a moment in silence, not awkward, but thoughtful. After a moment, he broke off her thoughts.

"I should go home. It's late," he nearly whispered.

"Okay. I'll see you around."

And then, he grabbed her face roughly and kissed her cheek. "Malfoy traditional goodbye," he said, his old swagger regained.

He left before she had a chance to respond or digest what had just happened.


	11. Revelations and Experiments

**A Song for Lonely Hill**

**A/N**: _The end of this one is a truly evil cliffhanger… I'll try to get the next one out soon, I've been lagging behind because I've had a lot of essays to do and my writing muse momentarily died because of it. But then today it came back suddenly and I wrote this chapter in one sitting. Hope you enjoy it!_

Revelations and Experiments---

Over the next few days, Hermione was at a loss of what to think, or do. Her mind filled with a sort of blank buzzing during work. She did what she was told without really thinking about it.

All her brain seemed to want to dwell on was Draco, but she would not let it. It was all too complicated, too screwed up, too _new_. Too _different._

So she liked him. They were friends. Hermione had at least come to that conclusion. She had even admitted to herself that she was probably the closest friend he'd had in his life. Was he as close to her?

She had never told anyone – not even Harry or Ginny – some of the things that she had told Draco. While attempting to redeem him, she had unwittingly stumbled upon discovering more about herself. Things she never knew she could believe… Things she never knew she could say… to anyone…

So what did this mean? Were Hermione Granger, war hero and school role model, and Draco Malfoy, former death eater and self-proclaimed king of Slytherin, _best friends?_

Despite everything that had shared with each other, and despite her complete change of opinion in him, Hermione still had a difficult time settling herself with the fact that they were friends. She lay awake at night, the sheets clutched tightly in her hands, trying to convince herself that this was okay. Perfectly natural… That it was not forbidden… But then she imagined the looks on Harry's and Ginny's faces if they knew about it…

Panic stricken. Harry's eyes would pop and his mouth would fall open. There'd be a sort of painful silence while Ginny looked her in the eye, with that strong, hard stare, silently asking her if it was true. Hermione would nod, Harry would start shouting incoherently, Ginny would say nothing, make no noise, but fix her with that disappointed glare that hurt more than anything.

Hermione knew she could never tell them. Another thing she was hiding from her so-called best friends. For all they knew, she was merely trying to redeem Draco for the sake of Wizarding kind.

This fear of being found out was also coupled with immense guilt. This was the same person she had hated for years and blamed for the death of Ron, for Merlin's sake! How could this have happened? How could she have slipped so deep into the persona of Draco Malfoy? How could she have spilled her own secrets in the process? She had only meant to make _him_ a better person, so why was he turning the tables on her? And why did she not even _care_?

As Hermione sat on her sofa in her living room, her fork with a dumpling speared on the end of it halfway up to her mouth, she realized that there was only one force that could possibly accomplish this. That could possibly outweigh the guilt and the sorrow and the pain and leave her _happy._ The very same force that had saved the life of Harry Potter multiple times.

Love.

Love, love, love, love, _love._

But she didn't love Draco Malfoy. Did she?

She thought back to when he had kissed her hand, kissed her cheek, remembering the tingling feeling that refused to leave until she took a shower and literally scrubbed it off. She remembered the strange leaping, jolting feeling in her stomach as he grabbed her face and pressed his lips to it.

She remembered that she had _enjoyed_ it.

The limp dumpling fell off the end of her fork, as if timed with this revelation. She sat up suddenly, putting her hardly touched plate of Chinese food down on the coffee table.

This was a new idea. A hypothesis. An experiment waiting to be tested. She felt her scientific self becoming excited and engaged. She needed to find out if it was true, if she was really in love with Draco Malfoy. Hermione jumped up, grabbed a quill and scrap of parchment, and hastily scribbled:

_Draco-_

_This may seem sudden, but I need you to come to my flat straight away. I don't care when you get this, just come as soon as possible. It's urgent._

_-Hermione_

A mere two hours later, there was a fierce pounding on her door.

"Granger, what the hell is going on?! Let me in this instant!" he shouted through the crack. She hastened to swing open the door and found Draco standing behind it, looking slightly disheveled and very alarmed. "_Well?_"

"Just come in then," she said calmly.

He practically threw himself in the room, frantically glancing around for any signs of danger. "Aren't you going to tell me what's going on? What's the emergency? I've been tearing my hair out over this!" he spoke very quickly, his chest heaving.

Hermione sat down, her resolve to do what she had planned ebbing away as quickly as it had come. She prolonged the conversation. "You were nervous about me?"

"Well, _of course_, what if something had-" he stopped abruptly. His manner changed. "I mean… I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have an outlet, I mean, yeah," he said, scratching the back of his head inconspicuously.

"So you don't care about me? About whether I was in danger?"

"No! I mean, I didn't mean… Yeah, I… I care…." He looked extremely jumpy all of a sudden, as though regretting what he was saying.

"Mm," she replied, hastily coming up with an excuse for why she had invited him. It was far too risky to go with the original plan, she could not do it, would not…

"What's the emergency?"

"I uhh… I burned myself."

"You _what_?"

"I burned myself," she repeated, not quite meeting his eye.

"So you, instead of resorting to your wand, decided to send me an owl?"

"Yes. I… I couldn't find my wand…"

"Well, are you okay now?"

"Er… Yeah," she said rather awkwardly, feeling more and more awful for backing out.

"Then I guess I'd better go." His hand was on the doorknob when a reckless daring seized her.

"What about the Malfoy goodbye?" said Hermione, taking a step closer.

"Oh… That… Well, the next bit is sort of, well, I thought it'd be awk-"

But he didn't finish his sentence, because she had grabbed a hold of his shoulders and kissed him squarely on the mouth.

His lips lay limp for almost a minute before he seemed to come to his senses and broke away.

"Hermione?! What are you doing?"

"Testing a hypothesis," she said innocently.

"What? What do you mean? Did you really just _kiss_ me?" he looked quite stunned, his eyes were wide in disbelief and his mouth hung open.

"I just wanted to see if that was the next Traditional Malfoy goodbye. If I was right."

"Well, you were, I just didn't think you wanted to… Unless you want to… Do you?"

She answered him by again pressing her lips to his own, and this time she was rewarded with response.


	12. Moments and Meaning

**A Song for Lonely Hill**

**A/N**: _After rereading the last chapter I realized that there was no cliffhanger at all! Oh well, that's good, isn't it? But cliffhangers are fun._

_This one's out a little earlier than usual. I hope you like it! Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed. I truly love every single one. On the last chapter I'll do some thank you's to everyone._

Moments and Meaning---

Hermione's brain was slowly losing the ability to think coherently as she felt a strong hand running down her back and the other weaving itself in her hair. An alarm was going off in her head.

_Stop, no, stop, no, no, not good, don't do this, no, no good can come of this, stop now, think of the consequences, think, no, stop, think…_

But the words were fading, becoming quieter and quieter and eventually gone altogether as they collapsed onto her sofa, hungry for more touch, more taste, _more._

The passion grew. It was as if she was taking out all of her frustration and unrest on Draco in that moment, and he seemed to be doing the same. They scratched, bit, gripped, pulled, almost battling each other… Seeing how far they could go and who would back out first. It was a challenge. A competition. Something that they were both all too familiar with, and she could not, _would not, _lose again to Draco Malfoy.

_Don't give in, don't think, let yourself go, let everything go, _she told herself.

Just as she thought she had accomplished it, really lived in the moment, and just as she was midway in removing his shirt, something fell back into place in her mind.

_Holy shit. This is Malfoy. DRACO Malfoy! What the hell are you doing? You love RON!_

She stopped abruptly, letting his shirt fall to the floor. She pulled back from him and sat up on the other side of the couch, while he lay there staring up at her quizzically.

"What's wrong?"

For a moment she just stared at him. "What are we doing?"

"Umm…" he said, smirking, "Well, we were on the way to something fun, but, you stopped."

"You know what I mean."

"Well," he scratched his head, not looking at her, "I don't know about you, but I… I, err… I liked it." He spat the last words out so quickly, he seemed to hope she wouldn't hear them.

"I…" Hermione realized how awkward this conversation was going to be. "So did I."

Draco nodded, his eyes darting all around the room, everywhere but her.

"But what does this mean? For our relationship."

His eyes snapped onto hers, boring into them. "Does it have to mean anything?"

"Of course it does! Everything has to mean something!"

"Why, though?" he asked simply.

"Because it does!"

"That's some great logic. Witty. I'm really convinced," he said, his voice dripping in exaggerated sarcasm.

"Malfoy, will you take me seriously for just one second of your life?"

"Back to Malfoy, now are we Granger?"

She didn't answer him, still deep in a whirlwind of confusing thoughts, trying to make sense of what they had just done.

"I'm just worried," she confessed finally, "that by kissing you I'm betraying Ron."

"Hermione, you're not betraying him."

"But I was in love with him!"

"Ron would want you to be happy. It's time you let it go. Let him go."

"I can't. Harry keeps trying to help me, but…

"Survivor's guilt," said Draco wisely.

"I never go a day without wishing I could turn back time."

"Don't we all?"

"I suppose so, yeah."

He sat up. They were a mere yard apart from each other. Hermione was still painfully aware of that fact that he had no shirt on, and resisted the temptation to stare.

"Can I ask you something?"

She looked up. "Sure, I suppose."

"What was the real reason you kissed me?"

She was rather startled at this sudden question. So he knew that her coy little excuse of guessing the next goodbye what not it at all. Somehow she felt that lying was not the best path at this point. He knew too much about her, knew that nothing, when it came to Hermione, could be explained simply.

"Because I didn't know why I liked you so much. I couldn't think of another way to explain why I… Why I don't care that by befriending you I'm betraying everything I used to stand for. Why I don't care what Harry or Ginny would think, or I would, but, I felt that what we had was worth it. But what did we have? So… I kissed you. To see if there was something there."

"And was there?" he said quietly.

"What do you think?"

He laughed, glancing down at his shirt, the evidence of what they had just done. But suddenly he was serious again. "I think there was."

"So do I," said Hermione.

Neither of them spoke for a moment. But she broke the silence with the question both of them were trying, desperately, to answer. "So where do we go from here?"

"I don't know."

They lapsed into silence again, but a minute or so later it was Draco who broke it.

"We could just… see what happens, I guess. No pressure. Just… do what feels right."

"Okay."

He stood up, bending down to grab his shirt. He yanked it over his chest – Hermione was sad to see it go – and began walking towards the door.

She struggled with herself for a minute, but then she burst out, "Wait!" It came out as a cry of desperation. She felt like she was about to cry, but didn't know why. She just knew, in her gut, that she could not be alone tonight.

He turned around. "What?" he said, his expression concerned.

"D'you… Do you want to stay over?"

His features lightened. "Sure."

They didn't say another word to each other for the rest of the night, even when they both climbed into her bed. Draco held Hermione in his arms and she was asleep instantly. Draco was awake for a while longer, appreciating the realization that they were both happy for the first time in seven years.


	13. Worry and Release

**A Song for Lonely Hill**

**A/N**: _Yay, Harry and Ginny finally make another appearance! I really love writing them, it's nice to escape Draco and Hermione every once and a while._

_Can't think of anything else to say here… Oh well, enjoy the chapter!_

Worry and Release---

Hermione awoke feeling comfortable and relaxed. It had been a long time since she hadn't been stressed, worried or resentful about something.

Then she remembered why she felt comfortable and relaxed. She looked over her shoulder to see Draco, fast asleep, his arm draped lazily over her waist. Her first thought was, _Wow, this is wonderful. _Her second was, _Oh hell, what am I going to tell Harry and Ginny?_

Stress and worry returned to her with a vengeance. She must have become tense, because Draco awoke immediately.

"Mmm," he said, bringing her closer to him. But she sat up.

"No, stay in bed," he grabbed her shoulder and tried to yank her down, but Hermione had already stood up. He ruffled his hair, looking confused. "What's wrong?"

"Want some breakfast?" she asked in a determinedly casual voice, ignoring his question.

"Er… Yeah, sure."

"What do you want?"

"Whatever, I don't care."

She walked briskly away from him and into her tiny kitchen, hardly bigger than Mr. Weasley's office at the ministry, but not before catching a look of concern on his face.

Hermione cracked some eggs and lit the stove with her wand to fry them, her mind whirling with conversation starters.

_Hello, Harry, I just kissed Malfoy, how are you? Ginny! Lovely to see you again, I'm really attracted to Malfoy! What's going on in your life?_

Even inside her head it sounded pathetic.

Draco entered the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes. Fine, just fine."

"C'mon, Hermione, don't start with that, I know something's up."

She cracked another egg so ferociously that it spattered all over the kitchen and into Malfoy's face. "_I'll_ tell you what's _wrong! _I'm thinking about what on earth I'm going to tell Harry and Ginny about us, and I'm drawing a blank here, so if you have any bright ideas, please, share them!"

He blinked the egg out of his eyes and said, "Why do you have to tell them anything?"

"Because they're my friends, I can't keep this secret."

"I thought you'd been lying to them for years and years? Remember that conversation?"

"But this is just so _big._"

"I would think your unhappiness is a big deal too, wouldn't you?" said Draco smoothly.

She turned to face him, forgetting the prospect of breakfast completely. "Draco, I can't not tell them this," she near whispered. "I just can't."

"If you must, you must. But please bear in mind that I'm not really in the mood to receive a hex in the mail from Potter, so do ask him to leave me alone."

"I'll try. But I'm not saying that he won't be angry. He will."

"Of course he will, he hates me. But I don't fancy a duel, is all."

"I understand."

Hardly an hour later, Hermione sent a message to her friends, saying that she would be arriving by apparition the very next day, if it was convenient. They responded immediately, and very enthusiastically, that they would be glad to see her again.

She bid her goodbyes to Draco and traveled to New York, ignoring stares from people in the streets. As she knocked on the door of their apartment, her stomach began to twist around itself in nervousness, imagining their stricken faces. She had not successfully planned a way to break it to them, simply hoping that everything would go okay, and no curses would be fired in the process.

"Hermione! To what do we owe the pleasure?" said Harry, leading her inside. The living room bore obvious signs of parenthood. There were diapers strewn into a corner next to an overflowing trash can. The floor was littered with stains and various brown spots that had Hermione cringing a bit.

"How do you _live_ here?"

Ginny entered the room carrying the twins, one in each arm. She sighed playfully. "I have no idea. The diapers are Harry's fault, he never throws them out."

"Hey! Some are yours!" he turned to Hermione, "I can't imagine how muggles do this without magic, I'm tearing my hair out here, I get no sleep, none at all-"

"Anyway," said Ginny impatiently, cutting him off, "What's going on with you?"

"Well, I sort of… I have something to tell you guys."

"Why don't we sit down?" said Harry, his brow furrowed in concern.

The three of them took seats on the sectional couch in the corner. Hermione heaved several deep breaths to prepare herself.

"I wanted to talk to you guys about… About Draco. Malfoy."

The reaction was immediate. Harry's eyebrows disappeared into his hair and Ginny visibly gripped her children tighter.

"I thought you two weren't corresponding anymore," she said, her voice slightly accusatory.

"Well… We have been. We are. Ever since I was last here."

"But why?"

"I was trying to help him redeem himself. I wanted to know it was possible for someone like him to turn it around. To start over new."

"But _why?_" said Ginny more urgently.

"Because I was feeling really down in the dumps, really low about myself, for quite a long time. Years, probably. I was desperate to find purpose. And if someone as low sunk as Malfoy could turn over a fresh leaf, it meant I could too."

Hermione's friends both looked dumbstruck at this piece of information. She had been lying to them about her happiness for years, and now it was time for them to find out.

"So I've been helping him. Opening him up. Getting him to tell me things he's never admitted to before. Our little psyche sessions went on for a while, and I was really making progress. I could see that there was a person under there, under all the arrogance and pureblood pride. But then, something happened."

They still didn't say anything, so she continued, taking advantage of their silence. "We… Oh Merlin, we kissed. And it was wonderful, but I'm so confused, and I just have no idea what's going on or what to do about this. There, I said it."

There was a ringing silence for a full fifteen seconds, before Harry said, "Why didn't you tell us?"

"I just did."

"No, I mean about how depressed you were. I knew you were still upset about Ron, but I had no idea…"

"Harry, Ginny, I am so, so sorry for not being honest with you. If I could take it back, I would, but I can't. And now something has happened that has made me happy, but what if that something isn't worth it? And it won't be if you aren't friends with me anymore."

"Well, I can't pretend I'm not shocked at this bit of news," said Ginny, "I mean, he's _Malfoy._ The boy who made our lives a hell in school."

"I know, Ginny, I know. But you have to try to understand. He's not that boy anymore. Not on the inside."

"I'm going to try my hardest to understand that, my hardest not to judge what's happened, but it's going to be difficult. But, you're our friend, and we're going to accept you no matter what. Right Harry?" she added, nudging him.

"Err… Right. But if he does anything to hurt you-"

"You'll send him a hex in the mail," said Hermione promptly, almost laughing.

"You can hold me to that."

"And me," piped up Ginny.

"So you guys are okay with this?" Hermione asked.

"We're fine as long as you're fine."

Hermione left their apartment with a huge weight lifted off of her chest. How could she have underestimated her best friends?

She was almost looking forward to telling Draco the news when she got home, but when she opened the door, he wasn't there.


	14. Deception and Dismissal

**A Song for Lonely Hill**

**A/N**: _Sorry it's a bit late. I had some trouble with this one, like I always do when I include letters in a chapter. I hope this one doesn't make people too sad!_

Deception and Dismissal---

Hermione walked all through her flat. The living room, tiny kitchen, bathroom and bedroom. Draco was nowhere to be found. A huge feeling like a deadweight dropped through her. _Where the hell is he, where has he gone, why did he leave without telling me? _She thought desperately.

She scurried back around the apartment, just to double check. Maybe he was hiding, for a rather feeble joke?

Disappointed, she collapsed on her sofa in despair, without the slightest idea of what to do with herself. It was a Sunday, and without work, she usually lazed around, ate unhealthy food and felt sorry for herself.

_Maybe,_ said a small voice inside her head_, maybe he went back to his place, he's perfectly entitled to do so, it's not like he lives here, he doesn't need your permission to leave, you're not his mother…_

_But really, _she argued with herself,_ he should have said something! It's common courtesy! What if I needed him? What if, for some reason, I was depending on him to be at the apartment when I returned?_

She could think of no rebuttal to this logic.

It was then that it occurred to her that she had no idea where Draco did live. How on earth could he afford a house? Surely he was looking for a job now, but as far as she knew he had no means of income whatsoever.

She hastily scribbled a note, asking him in a slightly less than polite way where the hell he was, and called, "Twitter!"

A small tawny owl promptly flew in from a window, undoubtedly just resting on the tree outside it. She landed on Hermione's shoulder, clicking her beak excitedly.

"I've got something for you. You can find Draco again, right?"

Twitter blinked, her usual signal for 'yes', and stuck out her leg, allowing Hermione to tie the brief note to it. She then flew away, Hermione watching her shrink until she was no more than a small speck against the darkening sky.

All she could do now was wait.

Three hours later, she peered out the window to see two dots gradually becoming larger. They were directly headed to her apartment. Soon she could make out the appearance of the owls. One of them was Twitter, carrying Draco's return letter. The other was an owl Hermione had not seen for a very long time. Hedwig.

They zoomed in through the window and landed on the perch she had strategically placed right next to it. Hermione untied the envelopes, wondering why on earth Harry was sending her a letter when they had talked mere hours before.

She opened Harry's first.

_Dear Hermione,_

_It's Harry, obviously. I know we just saw each other, but I should tell you that Ginny and I had an argument right after you left. It was pretty bad, actually. I know we said everything was okay when you were here, but she doesn't entirely forgive you for the whole Malfoy business. She talked about Ron, and betrayal and other things like that, and I have to say I sort of agree with her. I mean, I do agree with her._

_The row was more about whether we should tell you how we really feel about the situation or not. Ginny reckons it's best to let you realize on your own that you are not doing the right thing, but I think it's better to be honest. She doesn't know I'm writing you this letter, so it'd be nice if you wouldn't tell her about it._

_Anyway, I just wanted to say that I hope you understand what you are getting yourself into. Malfoy is very deceptive. He's an accomplished Occlumens, and it would not be hard for him to deceive you. He could be planning something for his own gain. Don't ask me what, but it surely can't be good. He is skilled at planning, he is up to something, and I know it. Both Ginny and I know it._

_Please don't be angry when you read this letter. Try to let what I am saying sink in before you judge me. I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you, but someone like Draco Malfoy would._

_Please write back,_

_Harry_

So they hadn't understood. They had not realized that Draco had changed, they had not believed her when she said she understood the consequences. They did not think she could take care of herself. They had lied to her.

This was just like sixth year when Harry was so sure that Draco had been planning something- Wouldn't hear a word against his "Malfoy-is-a-death-eater" theory.

_But,_ she reminded herself, _he was right, wasn't he?_

Hermione decided to dismiss this piece of information by digging out a few owl treats for Hedwig from her bag of seed next to the window.

"Go on, I'm not sending a letter back," said Hermione, attempting to shoo the snowy owl.

Hedwig cocked her head to one side, looking angry. "Did Harry order you to peck me? Please don't, I'm really not in the mood," she said rather coldy.

Hedwig hooted indignantly, ate her treats, and flew away.

Hermione opened the second letter, hoping it was marginally more cheerful than the first.

_Hermione,_

_Am I not allowed to return to my own house every so often? Am I obligated to let you know when and where I go at all times? I should hope not. You are not my mother. Well, if you must know, I am in my father's Wiltshire mansion. It's sort of decrepit now, but still livable. And as I have nowhere else to live, why not? If you want, you can come see it. Just go to Wiltshire and ask anyone for the whereabouts of the old Malfoy Manor. That should lead you right._

_Draco_

Hermione left immediately. She needed to talk to someone, _now._


	15. Coldness and Release

**A Song for Lonely Hill**

**A/N**: _Yeah, so I screwed up. It's been like what, three weeks since I last updated? I know, I know, I suck, I fail at life etc. I have no excuse other than I'm in a play now and have less time, and also it's the holiday season, so that took up even more time. Real life is annoying. I'll try to keep it from going that long again, but I can't guarantee anything._

_Anyway, this one's a doozy. (hah! I love that word.) We find out a lot more about Draco and why he seems to have a dual personality. It's angsty, fluffy and frustrating-y all in one chapter! It's nice and long, too. Fun, fun, fun. (Guess what else is fun- Reviews!)_

Coldness and Release---

Draco had been right. She arrived in Wiltshire, and with one brief mention of the Malfoy name, Hermione was sent straight to the manor. But the old man who gave her directions was careful to warn.

"No one has lived there for years, but we see movement in the windows from time to time. A young lady such as yourself shouldn't explore there, It could be dangerous."

But Hermione merely laughed to herself and strode up the hill he pointed towards. At the top she could see a massive house. Yet the word house seemed irrelevant simply because of the sheer size of it. White, with windows that covered more than one floor, great sweeping curtains visible from the outside. The manor curved around like a horseshoe, with a grand wing on the left and right. She estimated there to be six floors above the ground.

She walked through the courtyard to what was clearly the front door, her nerve decreasing with every step. This place was a home to death eaters and darkness.

She grasped a hold of the knocker in the form of a serpent and pounded three times. Hermione expected to have to wait a long while for Draco to realize she was there, but within minutes the door swung open.

"You're here. I didn't think you would come," he said without a hello, his face strangely grave.

"The villagers think this place is haunted."

"I'm usually quiet, so they assume nobody lives here. But, then again, I haven't really been home for a while."

The comment reminded her of their last meeting, where she had thrown egg into his face. And then she remembered the night before, when… She felt the heat creep up onto her face at the memory.

Draco didn't seem to feel awkward at all. He opened the door further. "Well, come in, then."

Hermione's first impression was that she was looking at a grander, slightly more prestigious version of Grimmauld Place. It was not a happy thought. She stepped over the threshold.

"It's a bit-"

"Scary? Creepy?" she interjected.

"Well, yes," he said, looking as though he was close to laughter. But then his face darkened suddenly.

"I can't believe you used to live here as a child."

"I had the entire left wing to myself." He sat down at a stiff-backed bench and indicated her to do the same.

"Wow," she said, sitting beside him. "That's unbelievable. And, if you don't mind my saying, pretty awful for a lonely ten year old."

"At times, yes."

A silence fell between them. The air was strange. The way they were speaking to each other was too polite, unnatural. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, waiting for him to speak. Thankfully, he did.

"So, you must have a reason for why you're here."

"Right." Her brain immediately launched into memories of the letter and her friends and how they had lied... An anger leapt through her like a flame. "Harry and Ginny do not approve."

"As I expected," said Draco coldly.

"No, it's worse than that. They… They told me everything was fine, but then Harry sent a letter, basically saying that everything was not fine and that they think I'm making a mistake and I shouldn't know you let alone know you _that_ way and they're hoping I'll realize that and tell you to shove it."

"Once again, as I expected," he said grimly, taking advantage of her breath. "They're making you choose between them and me."

"No, it's not like _that-_"

"But it will be, won't it? In the end?"

Hermione didn't answer him. She knew this was true, but she didn't want to face it, didn't want to think about it. He was turned from her, his arms folded. Her eyebrows narrowed. _What the hell is wrong?_

"Why are you acting so cold? Why do you make no sense? Why do I think I've uncovered the real you, and then suddenly you go all Malfoy again?"

"So I guess this brief friendship is over," he said, ignoring the questions, his pale eyes narrowing.

"No. It's not. I… I don't want it to be."

He turned back to her, his eyes hopeful and huge, but then the look faded. "Don't tell me you'd rather know _me_ than _them_. I know _that_ isn't true," he said bitterly, as if he wished it was.

"I suppose not. But why do I have to choose at all? Maybe I just… won't mention you. When I'm around them, I mean."

"You know that won't last."

"Well, what do you want me to do, Draco?" Hermione said, her voice rising in frustration as her temper fired up. "What do you suggest? I'm not hearing any helpful ideas from you!"

"I don't know, okay? I don't know!" he shouted.

"Well, what do you want?" she bellowed back, their faces inches apart as they battled with their voices.

"I just want to know you, okay? I don't want to be alone again! I don't want to go back to that life of isolation, I can't! Not after seeing you, after talking to you. You changed my life, Granger, is that what you wanted to do? Well, you succeeded! I'm free now, I'm a person, an honest person now who made mistakes. Before you came to me, I never imagined feeling the way I feel now. I hated life. There was no hope for me, and I knew it, but now… Now, I see a future! Now I see potential for my life to go somewhere! I can make a difference because of you! So I'll be the first to say, congratulations, Hermione, you did it. I'm a person under this mask of hate and years of prejudice."

Hermione stared at him, stunned into silence.

"I'm your experiment, but I'll never be more than that. I won't mean anything to you. You won't know me as other than your little _project_. I'll never be as close to you as ickle Potter or the Weasley girl. You'll never consider _me_ as worth knowing. But what can I do other than go along with it, just so I can stay near you? What can I do other than to act cold, and distant so you'll think I still can progress? So you'll think it's worth continuing to work on me? Continuing to _be_ with me…" he ended softly, his chest heaving with the air of letting go what he had been holding back a long time.

Hermione was close to tears, hurt, shocked and distraught over his little speech. Yet at the same time, she felt a little piece of her heart go to Draco. A little piece of herself fell in love with him.

"I… I don't… I do… You mean… You mean more… I didn't know… Didn't mean…" But she couldn't get the words out, her eyes exploding with hot tears as she cried for him.

He looked a bit uncomfortable, but took her in his arms all the same, stroking her hair and murmuring words she couldn't quite hear. But that wasn't enough. She needed him to know, to understand, that he did mean something to her. He was not just an experiment anymore.

So Hermione used the only way she knew how to communicate her feelings without speaking. She kissed him.


	16. Mistakes and Reason

**A Song for Lonely Hill**

**A/N**: _This chapter is mostly dialogue, but it was really fun to write, especially the later parts. Oh, how I love the Draco/Harry rivalry…_

_Reviews 3_

Mistakes and Reason---

The next morning Hermione awoke before Draco, unwrapping herself from the tangle of blankets and arms to go find a kitchen.

She smiled as she remembered the night before.

_"Where are we sleeping?"_

_"In this bedroom. It's the one I always use."_

_"Are there two beds?"_

_"Don't be silly, there's only one. You're not afraid to share, are you?"_

_"No… I suppose not…"_

Laughing at the memory, Hermione snapped back to the present. She groped through the darkness that consumed the Malfoy Manor twenty-four hours a day, hard put to find a door at all, let alone somewhere to cook.

"DRACO?" she shouted, beginning to feel completely lost. "_DRACO?_"

"Yeah?" he said airily, appearing suddenly from a corridor she hadn't realized was there.

"There you are," she panted, relieved, "Where's the nearest kitchen?"

"Cooking again are you?"

"Yes, it's eleven in the morning. Wouldn't you say it's time for something to eat?"

"Sure, why not," said Draco, waving his hand to lead her through a door that was impossible to find unless you knew it was there. Inside was a dingy little room with a black stove that looked as though it hadn't been used in decades.

"Don't you have work? It's a Monday."

"Err… Right. Work. Umm, I'll owl in sick? I dunno, I just don't feel like continuing the project. We're really getting nowhere. Besides," she continued, shuffling pots around, "I'm leaving for the States to see Harry at noon, so I'd better-"

"You're _what?_" he interrupted sharply.

"I'm going to Harry's place at noon."

"I heard you, I just… Why?" he said, ruffling his hair and looking away from her.

"I need to talk to him and Ginny about the letter they sent me. To get this whole thing straightened out. In person," she added, her eyebrows furrowing as she busied herself with eggs and bacon, "Is there a problem?"

"No… The Weaslette will be there too?"

"I expect _Ginny_ will be there, yes."

"That's good." He looked relieved for some reason.

"Why is that good?" Hermione was really beginning to feel suspicious. He was hiding something again.

"You've been seeing a lot of Potter."

"He is my best friend, and all…" she visibly saw his hand tighten into a fist. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah, I'm perfectly fine." His eyebrow twitched rather revealingly.

"Well, if there's nothing you want to tell me…"

They ate their breakfast in silence.

An hour and a half later she was knocking on the door to Harry's flat, trying not to worry about what could be going on in Draco's mind. Before she could decide exactly what she was going to say to them when they opened the door, she was looking straight into Harry's stunned face, at a loss for words.

"Did you come here to curse me?" he said, nervously glancing at the wand enclosed tightly in her fingers.

"No," she answered calmly.

"Stun me?"

"No…"

"Slap me?"

"Merlin, Harry, No! Just let me in, for crying out loud!"

"Okay, okay," he said heavily, leading her inside. "Ginny's not here. She took the twins out for a walk in this muggle thing called a stroller that you push and-"

"I know what a stroller is, Harry. Remember who you're talking to?" she said, sighing. He often forgot her heritage.

"Right. Right. Of course," said Harry distractedly, fingering his dark hair. She took note that Draco did the exact same thing when he was nervous. But then he stopped, and hesitantly looked into her eyes. "Are you mad? About the letter?"

"I can't say I wasn't upset at first."

"I know, I'm sure you were, but… I still stand by what I said. I think you're making a mistake."

"I think you're the one who's making the mistake."

"How's that?" he asked in a polite but dangerous voice.

"You're determined to hate Draco."

"You're calling him _Draco_ now? Gods, Hermione, what happened to you? What happened to the confused girl who cried on my shoulder and accused _me_ of letting someone like _that_ into my house? What changed?"

"_He_ changed. I opened him up, he's a different person now."

"He seemed the same to me."

"But you don't know him like I do. Maybe if you tried-"

"I can't. There's too much bitterness there. Look, Hermione," he said, applying that 'I'm not giving up' look of his. "He could be trying to trick you."

"What if he's not? How do you know? Don't you think I would know better, having spent the best part of 3 months with him?"

"He's a very good Occlumens."

"And I'm a very good legilimens! Don't you dare doubt my abilities, Harry-"

"I wasn't!"

"Don't you dare doubt my ability to protect myself. I'm not as vulnerable as I used to be. I'm different now. You've got to let me go. You've got to stop protecting me. You can't save everyone! People don't always need, they don't always want to be saved! If there's a flaw you have, it's that, and you know it. It's caused us a great deal of damage in the past."

Harry went stone-cold quiet at that, his arms that had been gripping Hermione's shoulders dropping slowly to the ground. She knew she had crossed an unforgivable line.

"I didn't mean that," She could not stop the tears from falling. "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. I shouldn't have said… Sirius wasn't…"

"I don't want to talk about it. It's okay."

"I'm so sorry, Harry, I'm so sorry," she whispered, pulling him close to her in a tight embrace. He leaned his warm face against hers, and they remained like that for a soft moment, where she knew they understood each other. She knew Harry would let her go, despite his reservations, because he loved her like a sister and trusted her decisions.

But the moment was interrupted by the door flying open to reveal Draco framed in the doorway, his eyes blazing and wand aloft.

They broke apart and stood up in seconds, Harry's hand flying towards his wand and looking mutinous. Hermione jumped between them, putting her hands out to stop them from firing.

"Stop! What are you doing? What are you doing _here_ Draco?!" she screamed desperately.

"I've come to take you home, Hermione!" he said, though it looked as though he had no intention of doing so.

"Why didn't you fucking _knock_? You undid all my spells and passwords to take her _home_?" shouted Harry, his wand tip as close as he could get it to Draco's face.

"Get out of it, Hermione!" yelled Draco, attempting to push her out of the space between them. "You're coming home, right now."

"Excuse me? What gives you the right to dictate where and when I go?"

"She can make her own decisions, Malfoy! Just because you may be banging her-"

"HARRY!" interjected Hermione.

"-doesn't mean you control her!"

"Looks like I'm not the only one banging our little Granger," said Draco slyly. "I saw you two sharing an intimate-"

"DRACO!" shouted Hermione, the reason why he had been acting so strangely suddenly dawning on her.

"A hug between friends!" Harry yelled back. "Once I think of a good enough curse, I'll blow you to smithereens, Malfoy!"

"If anyone fires one curse in my apartment, I'm throwing them out," said Ginny calmy, standing in the open doorway, her right hand twirling her wand devilishly, the other gripping the handle of a stroller containing two very confused babies.

_Finally,_ thought Hermione_, a voice of reason._

"Malfoy, get out. Hermione, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave. I'm going to deal with my dear husband, now, to figure out what the _hell_ is going on here. I'll see you later."

"Okay. Goodbye. Let's _go_, Malfoy," said Hermione coldly, gripping his shoulder and steering him out of the apartment.

_Ginny's not the only one who'll be dealing with someone tonight._


	17. Clarity and Balance

**A Song for Lonely Hill**

**A/N**: _This chapter is a kind of revelation for Hermione. Things become clear for her in the sense of what she and Draco have to do to make this work. It's a bit more complicated than she had previously assumed, therefore, the plot thickens…_

Clarity and Balance---

"Exactly _what_ is your problem, _Malfoy_?" said Hermione as calmly as she could once they had arrived back at the manor. They had spent the trip in total silence, Hermione so angry that she didn't dare speak to him in public for fear of causing a disturbance.

"I think you know, _Granger,_" he said, placing particularly cold emphasis on her last name.

"I think I know, too, but I'd like to hear it from you," Hermione said swiftly.

He seemed to struggle with himself for a moment, before bursting out, "You and Potter!"

"Potter and I what? Do you think our relationship is anything more than-"

"I'm perfectly aware of what your relationship is about, based on what I saw."

"You didn't see anything! We were hugging! Really, Malfoy, is it impossible to have a friend of the opposite sex without there being anything more?" she shot at him, throwing her hands in the air at his unbelievable ignorance.

"His head was against yours!" Draco shouted in her face.

"And what is that supposed to imply?" she said, exasperated.

"It implies… It implies…" But he didn't seem to be able to finish the sentence.

She turned away from him and sat on the couch, deep in thought. _Why is Draco reacting so strongly to such a small moment?_

It didn't seem that he believed what he was saying. It was like he was coming up with excuses to defend a point that he was well aware had no backing. _Is it just because of his hatred towards Harry? Or is there something more that I'm not seeing? Something that would fuel his need to come and check on me as if he was expecting something to happen…_

And then it came to her. "You're jealous of him."

"What?" said Draco, aghast.

"You're jealous of Harry… My God, this is all making sense to me now…"

"What's making sense? What are you talking about? I'm not jea-"

"Another piece of the Malfoy puzzle solved. Maybe I _should_ become a psychiatrist for a living," she mused, the situation suddenly becoming slightly humorous.

"You don't know what you're saying! Why would I ever want anything Potter has?" She almost laughed at the way he got all flustered and how his cheeks turned a very delicate pink at her accusation. Clearly, she was spot on.

"You're jealous of his fame, his friends, his security in life… His relationship with me… You're acting like any other man would if he's convinced his… er… _girlfriend_ is cheating on him."

A stunned silence greeted these words. His mouth gaped slightly. He showed no signs of replying.

"Well, er," she persisted, "I mean, we are sort of, er, _involved_, so naturally you would be nervous that I could, er… not be loyal. Am I right?"

Draco seemed to give up pretending she wasn't. "You're just so close to him."

"I've known him for years," said Hermione, frowning in a slightly apologetic way.

"I've known you just as long," he said indignantly.

"But… I haven't _really_ known you until this year. You have to wait to develop a bond that close to someone. It takes time."

"So there's nothing between you and Potter?"

"Nothing but a close friendship. Honestly."

"Okay," he said, though it looked as though he wasn't entirely convinced.

"Is this going to continue to be a problem?"

"No."

"You're sure?, she said, eyeing him closely.

"Yes, I'm sure! Alright? Can we talk about something else?" Draco said, exasperatedly.

"Alright, then."

But he didn't say anything for the rest of the night, and neither did she. When Hermione crawled into bed beside him, she willed herself to fall asleep, but sleep would not come. Thoughts she had been trying to ignore were prying at the inside of her skull, and she knew she must face them sooner or later, why not now?

Hermione wasn't sure he had believed her. What was this envy going to do to their relationship? Would Draco continually be jealous of Harry and eventually drive their relationship apart? Or would it put more stress on her friendships with Ginny and Harry, which were already so tightly worn lately?

Maybe Draco wouldn't be the problem. Maybe Ginny would. Maybe Harry. Hermione knew her friends well enough to know that the longer she stayed with Draco, the less happy they would be. If Hermione gave them one tiny hint that he had done something to hurt her, all hell would break loose.

It was as if she was fighting desperately to keep a balance to both sides of her life. Her two best friends in the world, who she had been through literally everything with, and her newly acquired relationship with a man who had made her life a living hell just ten years before. It was a dangerous situation, alright.

Hermione knew she could trust Harry and Ginny not to do anything horrifically drastic to ruin the balance between her two lives. But if it were a question of them hearing about any sort of mistreatment…

It seemed the difficult weight of Hermione's world rested in Draco's hands. If he made a wrong move, all would spiral into chaos. If he had only known what he was getting himself into when he opted into Hermione's world…

Could she trust him to let childhood grudges go and start applying what he had learned from Hermione's sessions in the real world? Could he remove the stubborn veil in front of his eyes and really see her friends as people, and not enemies from a hated past? Could he forget it all?

_Yes. He can do it, I know he can, _she told herself. This was the ultimate test of redemption for Draco. It he survived it for six months,she would know he had really changed. Maybe then they could form a serious relationship… Maybe then she could see a possibility for a future for the two of them, an option she had been sweetly ignoring.

It all depended on whether he really wanted this. Really wanted _her_.

_Does he care about me enough to go through the strife it will take to keep the balance and win the battle?_

She resolved to ask him the very next morning when they awoke side by side.


	18. Unpleasant Surprises and Upsets

**A Song for Lonely Hill**

**A/N**: _The plot thickens...! I've gotten sick of the four main characters in the story, and have thrown in another one to pretty much ruin everything for Hermione. What fun! I've mentioned before how this story is kind of randomly thrown together. It won't be anymore, because now that I've added a fifth main character, everything has worked out and I know exactly how it will all end. Sadly, this means there are only a few more chapters left. Four or five tops. I'll try to make them good!_

Unpleasant Surprises and Upset---

The following day, Hermione awoke, all prepared to ask him the dire question that had been running desperately through her head the entire night. But he wasn't there beside her as she expected. She felt the space where he had been. It was cold. Clearly, he had not been here for hours.

Puzzled, she untangled herself from the sheets and looked around. Her eyes immediately fell on a scrap of parchment strategically placed on the bedside table so she would see it. It was a note from Draco.

_Hermione, something urgent has come up, and I had to leave. I'll be back before long. Probably later today. But you have a job, remember? You should go. Draco._

Something has come up? Could he get less specific?

It was surely something important. A family matter. He wouldn't have left so hastily otherwise. But what family did he have left? His mother? He hadn't spoken to her in years, didn't even know where she was. If she was even still alive.

She checked the clock. It was only seven in the morning. There was still time to get to work. Scoffing at her irresponsibility, Hermione gathered her work robes together and Apparated.

The day didn't go well. She was on edge the entire time, distracted with Draco's absence, and arguing with everyone. When her boss reprimanded her yet again, she came so close to knocking over her carefully concocted potion in his face and storming out. But she needed the money more than her dignity. She now understood that working at the lab had been a waste of time and talent. They didn't seem to be interested in changing the Wizarding world for good anymore- Just recreating medicines that were already invented and selling them for profit. It was all selfish gain, something Hermione wasn't the least bit interested in.

After work, she returned to the Malfoy Manor in a miserable mood. She needed to talk to Draco, blow off some pent up steam. She entered the house without knocking and began wandering around to Draco's usual rooms, looking for him. It was only when she reached the end of a particularly dark corridor she had never been down before that she heard a voice.

A woman's voice.

Without thinking, she wrenched open the nearest door and came upon the unlikely and completely skull-numbing scene of Draco speaking to an adult-size Pansy Parkinson in a study full of books.

Yes, _that_ Pansy Parkinson. Hermione couldn't believe it. She could have stood there for ten seconds or five minutes, she wasn't sure. Just staring, totally dumbfounded.

They stared back, and after forever it seemed, Pansy stood up, calm and cool as ice.

"Hermione. Pleased to see you after all these years," said Pansy smoothly, her voice seeming to seep from her painted lips in delicious, dark drawls rather than the harsh shrieks of mirth Hermione remembered from their Hogwarts days. She _looked_ different, too. Better. Her hair was a deep ebony, clipped short, only a few inches past her ears. Her face remained a bit pug-like and ugly, though she had grown into her features somewhat, one could say. Yet she was still hardly pretty.

Hermione said nothing, assessing the last time she had seen Pansy Parkinson.

It was at the final battle. Right before Harry had stepped into the cloud of mist to duel Voldemort, she had run, into the woods, her cloak billowing behind her, wand left behind. She couldn't face what she was being asked to do. She couldn't kill. She was like Draco in that way.

A burning hatred rose within Hermione that she could not explain to herself. She did not like this girl. Hated her, and didn't care why. This was not supposed to happen. The one person who had the power to upset the balance she had so carefully set for her and Draco, had arrived directly on his doorstep.

"Hermione?" asked Draco, speaking for the first time and seeming to recover himself.

"So sorry, I just… I'm a little surprised is all. Aren't you supposed to be dead? Or missing at least?" added Hermione, a bit weakly.

"Just sit down, the two of you, and I'll tell _you_ what you need to know," said Draco wearily, looking at Hermione.

She and Pansy obeyed, settling into two stereotypically Slytherin green armchairs that faced Draco's in a perfect triangle.

"Yes. I thought Pansy was dead as well. Hadn't heard from her in nearly seven years, she had to be. But then I received this message early this morning," he said, holding out a bit of parchment.

Hermione took it and read aloud, "_Draco. I'm alive and I want to see you. I know you've been cleared by the ministry, I saw in the papers, and I want to be free too. Meet me outside Borgin and Burkes at six in the morning. Will explain everything then. Not a joke. Pansy_."

"I've been on the run for seven years, at times with family, but mostly on my own under a fake name. Eventually I read that Draco had been cleared by none other than the boy-who-wouldn't-die, and I began to have hope for myself. I wanted to be free again. I was tired of that life. But first, I had to see Draco to work it out."

"And that pretty much brings us up to date," interjected Draco.

"If you think," said Hermione slowly and menacingly, "you'll be cleared-"

"Draco was, why not I?" Pansy said, coldly.

"Harry will never clear you. He only did it for Draco to repay him. What have _you_ done for Harry lately?"

"I must admit, not much. But if the public's willing to accept Draco, I figure I have a chance. And besides. I'm not expecting to be cleared by the _golden boy_," she sneered, "I'll do it myself. I'll find a good lawyer."

Hermione's blood boiled. How dare she talk about Harry like that in front of her?

"But Hermione, there's something we… _I_ need to ask you," Draco said softly. "I wasn't exactly expecting you to find out about Pansy-"

"You were going to _keep this from me?_"

"-but now you have. I'm sorry, but you're going to have to stay silent about this. No one can know Pansy is alive until she's ready to go public with her case. Not even Potter. He hates her, he'll have her arrested immediately, and the public will support him, of course. Then she won't have a chance at her freedom," he said desperately.

"If you expect me to not tell Harry any of this… Pretend I haven't seen her…"

"Please, Hermione. Please. Don't do this for her if you can't bring yourself to. Do this for me… Do it for a faceless, good friend of mine," he pleaded.

"I…" she gulped, "I'll try, Draco. I will." She closed her eyes, hating herself. Hating Pansy. Hating the ruin of the balance she had worked so hard for.


	19. Anger and Invitations

**A Song for Lonely Hill**

**A/N**: Yay, I hit 80 reviews and 10,000 views! I can't thank everyone enough for reviewing, I read and love every single one of them. Like I've said before, I will thank everyone personally when I post the epilogue. Four chapters left!

Anger and Invitations---

Hermione was sitting at a table in the kitchen, fiddling with her coffee mug but not drinking from it, staring out at the night sky. She was waiting for Draco to return and for Pansy to leave.

Her mind was blank. She didn't know what to think. She didn't know what on earth she was going to say to Draco once they were alone again.

What he had asked of her seemed impossible. For the first time in quite a few years, Hermione felt as if she were completely open with Harry. The way best friends should be. And now, because of Draco, she was back to square one. How could he expect her to keep this from Harry? She would never be able to look her friend in the eye again without bursting out the location of Pansy Parkinson.

The truth was, the information of Pansy being alive meant a lot more to Harry than Draco even knew. Or, at least, she didn't think he knew, or he would have never asked her to do this.

Ron had not been the only loss in the Weasley family. He had been the only death, but as Dumbledore had always said, there were things much worse than death.

Hermione hadn't been to see Fred and George in a long while, who were now residing in the same ward that Neville's parents were. It was difficult, to see their once wickedly shining faces lank, dull and slow. It was because of Pansy this had happened. Hermione didn't know all of the details, not that she wanted to. But she did know that several months after Fred and George had disappeared, the Order had received a note from the Death Eaters, threatening to kill the twins if the Order did not comply with their demands. The demands were met, and Fred and George were returned. But they were never the same again.

Ron had been especially devastated. He swore vengeance on whoever had done this to them. After he died at the battle, Harry made it his personal mission to get revenge on Ron's behalf. But then he learned, from none other than Lucius Malfoy, that it had been Pansy who had tortured them into insanity. That very moment, he looked over his shoulder and saw her escaping into the forest. Perhaps she had heard.

If by any means Harry learned that Fred and George's "murderer" was still at large, he would not hesitate to find her and send her to Azkaban. He might even kill her if he had the chance. Hermione knew she would not try to stop him.

How could she not tell Harry this? Why had she already promised Draco that she would try? Did she care more about Draco's well-being than Harry's?

Just as this horrifying thought occurred to her, the door swung open and Draco entered, plopping down in the wooden seat beside her. He looked nervous, his gaze traveling everywhere but onto her.

"She gone?" asked Hermione quietly.

"Well, in a manner of speaking, yes," he said, still not looking at her.

"What does that mean?"

"It means she's staying here in the manor. In the opposite wing. Far away from us, Hermione, so you won't have to see her."

"Good. Because I don't want to. Not ever. I want to pretend like I've never seen her."

"If it's what you need to do."

Hermione's fingers tightened on her coffee mug. She felt angry at him for making her do this. Angry at Pansy for inflicting her company on them.

"Why are you protecting her?" Hermione spat out finally.

"Because she's my friend. I care about her," he said earnestly, looking Hermione in the eye, this time. "I don't want her to suffer any more than she has. She deserves freedom."

A little ball of something, _fire,_ exploded within Hermione. "_Suffer?_ Do you have any idea what she's done, Draco? Do you know the suffering she has inflicted on other people? Don't you think it's time the little princess did some suffering of her own, to pay for what she's done?"

"But it's been seven years of torture for her, don't you think-"

"Don't you speak of torture! Don't you act like she can ever be forgiven for what she's done!" screamed Hermione in his face.

"She was forced into a lot of it… Like I was."

"No! You're different," persisted Hermione.

"You can say that because you know me now. You don't know Pansy. You don't know the remorse she feels. Won't you give her a chance?"

There was a silence while Hermione pondered this. "It's not about me. It's about Harry…" For some reason, she just couldn't bring herself to tell Draco about what had happened to Fred and George.

She looked up at Draco, and suddenly felt that everything was going to be okay. She took his hand and squeezed it slightly, the corners of her mouth creeping upward into a smile.

"I promise you, Hermione. Pansy won't be a problem. Really," said Draco, so sincerely that she couldn't help but forgive him and forget how difficult it would be to keep the secret.

"I don't want to go back to work tomorrow," she moaned, remembering the other trouble in her life.

"Then don't," he said simply.

"Really, Draco, you know that's not possible. I can't quit. I have to pay the rent."

"Then you can live here with me."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Are you serious?"

"Very."

"Did you plan this?" she said shrewdly.

"No, not really. This is entirely spontaneous," said Draco seriously, though he was grinning like a fool. She almost laughed. "You practically live here anyway."

"Okay, then."

"You sure?"

"Definitely."

"So it's settled," he said, his eyes shining entirely too brightly to be human.

"Yep. I'll begin the process of selling my apartment tomorrow," she said happily. "And quitting my job, which will be the most fun and satisfying experience ever."

She leaned upward to kiss him, hoping that he wasn't just doing this to make up for the unwelcome appearance of Pansy.


	20. Interruptions and Lies

**A Song for Lonely Hill**

**A/N**: It's been about a month since I last updated… heh… First it was production week for the show I was in, so I had no time. Then I was away for a bit, and then my computer had issues. So, that's why. But here's the twentieth chapter, with three more to go!

Interruptions and Lies---

Quitting her job had indeed been just as satisfying as she had hoped, and perhaps more so. The whole debacle included, but was not limited to, her knocking over a table and several chairs, swearing severely at her boss and saying everything she would have gotten fired for saying, then ended with her storming out of the building wearing a triumphant smile.

It was over. Hermione was going to live with Draco. She would never have to work again. She was going to be happy.

Over the next month or so, her wish hadn't exactly come true. Yes, there were moments when she was happy. Moments when she was alone with Draco, huddled close, and just talking, or making breakfast together, which had become a sort of tradition of theirs. She would teach him how to make scrambled eggs without magic (gasp), and how to be patient. He would teach her how to make the best pancakes in the world. "Malfoy-cakes" he would call them, grinning as she scoffed at him and rolled her eyes, trying to conceal her adoring smile.

The problem, however, came in the form of Pansy Parkinson, who never seemed to be out of the way. They were always so happy when they were alone, but Pansy seemed to want to limit this time as much as possible. She would always show up at inopportune moments, trying and failing to hide her satisfaction.

But Hermione was hoping it wouldn't happen this time, as she kissed Draco in the kitchen, smiling against his lips. He was running his hands through her hair, trying to remove the tie, which he always did as his "subtle" hint that he wanted more. She was about to gladly give it to him, when-

"Oh, dear! Did I interrupt something?" Pansy purred devilishly. They broke apart hastily, Hermione trying to keep her temper under control. How much longer was she going to have to put up with this?

Draco audibly sighed. "No, no, it's fine. Was there something you wanted, Pansy?"

"Oh, yes. Right. I have to talk to you," she near whispered. "In private," she threw a sharp glance towards Hermione, who scoffed.

"Sure, I was just about to leave," said Hermione briskly, grabbing for her coat on the table and fixing up her hair again.

"No, Hermione," said Draco, almost pleadingly, "You don't have to do this."

"No, it's fine. Really. Just fine."

She didn't say another word to either of them as she left for the Apparation Port. She was off to see Harry and Ginny to put some sense back into her life.

By the time Hermione had arrived at their apartment and was knocking on their door, she had worked herself into a nervous wreck.

She hadn't properly seen either of them since the time Draco had burst into their apartment and tried to hex Harry into a pile of jelly. Sure, she had owled them, kept in touch, even attempted to reach them on Harry's cell phone which Ginny still didn't really understand. But she hadn't contacted them in any meaningful way.

Which meant this was her first real confrontation with Harry since she had promised Draco not to tell him about Pansy being alive. It was her first test for the keeping of the balance. Draco, or Harry or both?

Harry swung open the door to greet her, beckoning her inside to sit on the couch. She nodded at Ginny weakly, who was sitting in the red armchair with the twins on her lap. Hermione hadn't so much as said "hello", before Harry was plunging into the story of everything that had happened with the twins that she had missed. She smiled and looked at him but didn't really listen. Maybe if she thought of other things, she could forget about Pansy and Fred and George.

The trouble was, that didn't seem to work. No matter what she did to close her mind, she couldn't stop picturing the scene of Pansy running into the woods and Harry swearing vengeance. It must have shown on her face, because Ginny, who hadn't been talking much, said, "Hermione, is everything alright?"

Harry looked round in surprise, then seemed to realize she had been staring at the same spot on the wall behind him for the past fifteen minutes. "You look pale," he added.

"No…. No, I'm fine, really," she assured someone for the second time that day.

"Something's wrong," said Ginny, undeceived.

"Nothing's wrong," Hermione insisted rather unconvincingly.

"Is it Draco?" asked Harry quietly.

"No," she said to him, a little stronger, though crumbling inside.

"What has he done?"

"You can tell us," said Ginny kindly. But Hermione could see the anger blazing in her eyes and Harry's eyebrows were entirely too close together. They were too protective for their own good.

"It's got nothing to do with that." Her insides burned with guilt and shame. She was lying to her friends again to benefit Draco. Could she ever forgive herself?

"Then what's it got to do with?" asked Harry. Her heart melted at the beautifully concerned look on his face. She knew he would do anything for her. How could she not return the favor?

"I… I don't know…" she said, feeling herself really begin to fall apart now. "Maybe I should go."

"Hermione, you're crying!" Ginny said, looking as though she wanted to get up, but trapped by her squirming twins in the chair. "Harry, go!"

He looked uncomfortable for a moment, then seemed to get over himself and got up to stop her from leaving. But she had already risen from her seat.

"I should really go," she whispered, turning away to hide the tears that were now streaming down her face. "I'll… talk to… you both… tomorrow…" She nearly ran out of the flat, closing the door in Harry's upset face. They were sure to be really puzzled now.

When she arrived back home to the manor, she was still crying steadily. Draco scooped her up in his arms and asked her what was wrong, but Hermione couldn't find it in her heart to tell him.


	21. The Climax and The Crumble

**A Song for Lonely Hill**

**A/N**: This one was fun to write and difficult at the same time. It leads right up to the final chapter, which I hope everyone will be satisfied with. It will take a while for me to write, because it has to be perfect, so expect it to come in a few weeks. I hope you can wait that long, even though I don't even know if I can! Thanks again to all reviewers and readers.

The Climax and The Crumble---

Hermione woke early the following morning, unable to get back to sleep. She went to the kitchen and sat down in one of the rickety, wooden chairs, better to be fully awake than lying in bed useless. The sky was just beginning to show signs of light. It must have been about 4:30 in the morning. She felt exhausted, but her mind was racing with incoherent thoughts. She felt uneasy about everything in her life, but she couldn't pinpoint why. Or maybe she could.

Sure, a lot of it was Pansy's fault. She was a complication if there ever was one. But that wasn't the whole reason. Hermione knew she couldn't place the blame all on her. If anything was to blame, it was the situation she was in.

Hermione's life seemed to be in a constant swirl of chaos, with her stuck between two worlds, neither of which she could see herself giving up. Just the thought of it was devastating. Of course, she could never live without Harry or Ginny, that connection had been established years ago and had only grown stronger with time. And she was closer to Draco than she could ever have imagined.

Even as Hermione sat at his kitchen table, she knew he still had traces of the arrogant, spoiled brat in him, or perhaps more than traces, but she had, incomprehensibly, grown to love and adore each and every one of them. She could no longer find it in herself to scold him for never making the bed, simply laughing playfully and forcing him to do it anyway.

Without him, there wasn't much left. No job, and no real social life but for two good friends. She couldn't go back to that. She refused to.

Hermione would simply have to find a way to make things work. She didn't have another choice.

Just as she resolved this, the opposite door to the kitchen flew open, and her heart sank. Pansy emerged, looking sleepy and less put together than usual. Her cropped hair was a tad frizzy and in her face. It took her a moment to look up and realize she was not alone.

"What are you doing here at this time of morning?" said Pansy groggily, though still somehow maintaining that ridiculous drawl that seemed to be a characteristic of all Slytherins.

"Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing," Hermione replied coolly.

After a slight pause, Pansy asked, "Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all."

She sat down in the chair facing Hermione. They stared at each other for a few painful seconds before Hermione turned away, trying to take the high road.

"Coffee?" she offered politely. Pansy nodded gruffly. Hermione busied herself with the pot for the next few minutes, glad to have something to do with her hands. She grabbed two mugs and poured them both a generous amount, handing Pansy hers.

They sat in silence for another few minutes, until Hermione was unable to keep herself from asking-

"Did you really torture Fred and George Weasley?"

Pansy hesitated for only a second, blinking once to show her slight surprise. "Yes."

"Oh," blurted Hermione, too slow to hide her obvious distress. So the rumors were true.

"Does that upset you? Hurt you?" asked Pansy, her lips curling into a very subtle smirk.

"Of course it bloody hurts me, they were my friends!" she all but shouted.

"It was difficult, at first, torture. But once I got the hang of it, it was easy."

"Wh- what are you saying? Why are you telling me this?" Hermione said, her voice shaking and growing faint again.

"You just block it out, that you're ruining someone's life," said Pansy casually as if Hermione hadn't said a word. "That's when it becomes… enjoyable, shall I say?"

"No… No, no, no. Stop," she murmured, covering her ears frantically.

"You just think about how much you're going to gain. How much power. Then when you see a light go out in their eyes and you know their sanity has left them, you see it as a triumph, _your _triumph. And not so much as a loss you've caused." She paused, a truly evil smile alighting her features. "But, ah, you've probably never used an unforgivable have you, Hermione? I'm sure you could, if you learned to concentrate all of your energy, all your emotion, into hate. That's what I had to do. It worked for me."

"Please. Stop. Stop," she positively wailed, but Pansy continued to whisper into her ear, like the devil on your left shoulder. She seemed to be rather enjoying herself.

"We're not that different, you and I. Who do you hate, Hermione, who do you really, truly hate?"

Hermione whispered something, but so softly, Pansy didn't hear. She leaned close to Hermione, placing her delicate hand on her shoulder, inviting her to lift her head and speak.

"Who's that? Go on, you can tell me. Who do you hate?"

"You." And in one quick motion, Hermione had bolted from the chair, pulled her wand from her belt, and pointed it directly at the place between Pansy's eyes.

"Hermione, what are you doing?" said Pansy in a bored voice, though her eyes did not leave the tip of Hermione's wand. Pansy got up slowly, one of her hands drifting just as slowly to her pocket.

"Don't take it out," ordered Hermione. Pansy's hand stopped moved immediately.

"Really, now, Hermione, exactly what are you planning to do? Curse me? _Kill_ me?"

"Of course not. All I want is for you to leave, and if you do so quietly, no harm will come to you."

"You say that so calmly, so… _confidently_. I know how to defend myself, I was a Death Eater in case it slipped your mind for a moment."

"Don't give me a reason to force you," Hermione whispered more defiantly.

"I won't if you don't want me to, but do I ever have reasons… The Weasley twins and Potter are the least of your issues with me, I can assure you." Pansy examined her fingers lazily as she said this.

"What do you mean?" said Hermione quickly, her breath hitching.

"Oh dear, you really have no idea?"

"Apparently not."

"What do you think Draco and I have been doing all those times we left you alone?" she said, her head lifted and her eyes flashing dangerously.

"No," said Hermione softly, raising her wand higher and actually letting it touch Pansy's forehead.

"It's about time you knew, it's been a secret far too long. Draco and I have always been, how do you say… a bit _more_ than friends. He's such a catch, I wouldn't give in to a common mudblood stealing his heart that easily… Luckily, as soon as I arrived, he seemed to forget all about you. He's always been mine, you know that, dear Hermione…"

"It's not true!" she screamed, her wand vibrating with electricity and her heart pounding with hatred and despair.

"It is, I'm afraid," said Pansy fiercely, all traces of boredom gone.

"_It most certainly is not!_" boomed a powerful voice from an open doorway. It was Draco.

They both froze instantly, Hermione's wand pointing at Pansy's heart.

"Pansy," said Draco, his voice shaking with shock and rage, "leave us. I need to speak to Hermione _alone._" She didn't move. "_NOW._" Pansy scurried away, looking afraid for the first time in Hermione's memory.

"It's time for us to have a talk," he said dangerously, as Hermione felt the world she had been so carefully constructing crumble from underneath her feet.


	22. Blows and New Beginnings

**A Song for Lonely Hill**

**A/N**: Well, this is it. It's quite a bit longer than the other chapters, as I knew it would be. There is so much thought process I had to squeeze in here, and to make it not look like a dump of memory and realizations took a lot of work.

I know this ending will surprise some of you, but I hope not everyone is disappointed. And don't worry, there _is_ one more chapter to explain and mesh out some things: The epilogue. There I will add my Author's Notes at the end, where I will give personal thanks to reviewers and list a few credits of people/things that have helped me along in writing ASFLH.

This story has truly been a wonderful experience for me, and I have learned and improved a lot. I hope readers enjoyed reading it half as much as I enjoyed writing it, because that is all I can really ask for. :D

Blows and New Beginnings---

Hermione shakily sat down in her seat, braced for who knows what to come. She couldn't bear to look at Draco as he sat down across from her, his hands folding menacingly.

"I first want to make sure you understand that Pansy and I are not together. We haven't been since fifth year."

She nodded weakly, still staring at the table instead of him.

"Pansy is… Well, she's an interesting person. If you'd known her for as long as I have, you wouldn't be surprised by her behavior in telling you what she did. It's really harmless, but you're just not used to her antics, so I completely understand why this has upset you."

As if to prove she wasn't upset, Hermione found her voice. "You call that harmless?"

"I knew you'd have trouble with this," said Draco, shaking his head. "Pansy is just like that, that's what she does. If you were Slytherin, you'd understand. She hasn't been interested in me that way for years. It's her idea of a bit of fun."

"She takes pleasure in lies?" said Hermione ruthlessly, determined to be justified in her hatred of Pansy.

"Well, yes."

"That's horrible. How can you be around someone like that, Draco?"

"Don't forget who I was, Hermione. Lies and gossip for the hell of it were… a bit of a standard, you could say," he said bitterly. "And you don't know her like I do. She's really a good person underneath all that malice, I swear to you. She just… Has a hard time letting go her grudges."

Hermione didn't respond, as wave after wave of painful memory flew through her mind… What Pansy had said about Fred and George… She found herself suddenly alit with hot anger, and what she had been concealing from Draco for over a month was finally pouring out of her mouth.

"She tortured Fred and George Weasley! They were good friends of mine! And now they're incapable of sane communication because of Pansy! She ruined their lives, ruined their family's lives, Draco!" she shouted, slamming the table with her fists.

He looked momentarily dumbstruck. "She… Did she… She did that?" he finished weakly.

"Yes."

"Do you have any proof?"

"Only that it came straight from her own mouth. She was just telling me about it, before you came in. She said… _awful_ things… I couldn't bear to hear it, so… so I got angry. Really angry."

"Oh… I can't believe she would stoop that low."

"But she did."

There was a short silence, as Hermione waited for him to speak, to say something, to make it all better.

"I don't know what to say… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for putting you through that."

She sniffed, attempting to keep the tears back. She was on the verge of crying, yet she wasn't quite sure why. It was if she had the feeling that something very, very important was about to happen to her. To her and Draco. All she could do was tell him the truth, now.

"Ron swore vengeance on her before he… Before he died. So Harry did as well. It was awful, not being able to tell him what I knew."

"That's why you came back so upset… You should have told me." His face was pale and his hands trembled. He looked terrible. She must have looked something like him.

"I tried. Many times. But I just couldn't… I couldn't do it."

"Why?"

It took Hermione a moment to find an answer to this. But then she thought back. Back to her deep hatred of Pansy, her hatred of Draco's relationship with her… "I was afraid that you would defend her and not me," she said quietly, yet honestly.

Something seemed to flare up inside of Draco. "How could you have thought that? After all these months?" he banged his fist on the table next to hers, frustrated. "You thought I wouldn't care? Who do you see me as? I know I was awful to you, at first. But I told you, I thought you knew that it was all an act. I just wanted you to stay with me. To keep talking to me. But you reached me on a level no one else had, and that act melted away. Don't you know that I'm not that person anymore? That I never was that person? I thought you knew, Hermione, thought you really knew me. But how could you have, if you had thought I wouldn't understand?"

"I made a mistake. I'm sorry. You just… You seemed so close to her. Best friends, even. I almost thought…" She trailed off, scared at Draco's suddenly dangerous face.

"You almost thought what?"

"Please don't get angry again, Draco… I really regret this, and I know it's not true, but the way she looked at you was so… And when she started telling me…"

"You really did think we were together, didn't you?"

Her mouth barely opened, but she still managed to emit a small, shameful, "Yes."

He seemed to sag in his seat, all the fight going out of him. It looked as though he were a long way away from angry, but this cold disappointment cut her deeper than any amount of shouting could.

"Yes, I did, I started to believe it a little."

"I'm not going to get angry anymore, Hermione, I'm tired of being angry. I've been angry all my life. I just want you to think back to when I was jealous of Potter. Remember that, months ago?"

The truth blew through her bones like a gust of icy wind. How could she have forgotten?

"But I got over that. I looked at my friendship with Pansy, and realized that your friendship with Potter was just the same," he said.

Hermione couldn't believe what a loathsome hypocrite she was. Here was Draco, so honest, so pure… And yet she didn't even follow the same rules she set for him. She was shaking with her own ignorance, hands clasped together to calm herself, but there was no waking from her nightmare. _How could I have been so stupid, so… naïve?_

"I also want you to know," he spoke quietly, apologetically, "that I am not going to send Pansy away."

She froze as a second blow coursed through her. "What?"

"Pansy is staying. I can't get rid of her, and I don't want to. I made a promise to her that I would help with the case."

"But it's been ages and nothing's happened yet."

"It's been taking a bit longer than we had hoped," he paused, bracing himself, "I wouldn't ask you to send Potter away," he whispered.

Despite her anger, she knew it was true. But she couldn't stop the feeling that she was crumbling inside. "Even after what she said to me?" she said quietly.

"Well, clearly I'm going to have to talk to her about that. But, she's still my friend even if she made a mistake," said Draco firmly, making it crystal clear that he was not to be argued with.

Hermione nodded, wondering how much more she could take. In only a few minutes, she had realized that she was a hypocrite, a sniveling, ungrateful brat, and would still have to live under the same roof as Pansy Parkinson. She hated herself more then, than she had ever remembered hating herself before. The fierce pride she had always worn in her school days was a thing of the past, now, it seemed.

It took her a few minutes to look up and see that he had been watching her, a sad, anxious frown gracing his normally course features. Hermione longed for him to smile, to let her know everything was going to be okay. As she looked at him in turn, waiting, she somehow sensed that he was deciding something.

"Hermione, I have to ask you a question," he whispered finally, looking as though he were in great pain.

"Okay," she replied nearly as quietly.

"Do you care about me enough to keep this up? Through all the mess and the complications and the pain? I know what we've been through so far to stay together, but it's only going to get worse. Do you think… Do you think what we have is worth going through all that?"

Hermione was struck dumb with disbelief. She couldn't find it in herself comprehend that he had asked her the very same question she had vowed to ask him. Never had she dreamed of needing to answer it herself, for she had always assumed it would of course be worth it, for her.

She couldn't think about it, would not think about it…

"Is it worth it for you?" she shot back at him.

"I'm asking you," he said, firm once more.

There was no escaping. She had to think about it.

She folded her hands silently and lowered her head, going over everything she had given up to stay with Draco.

First there was her job. And her apartment. She had no means of pay anymore because of him. And that wasn't a bad thing, it just meant that she was giving no meaningful contribution to the world. _But that is bad_, she realized with a jolt. _I'm smart, I'm talented, I should be using my gifts to do something good, or what's the point of existing? What's my purpose in life if I spend it idly?_

Hermione had always struggled with her purpose in life, ever since Voldemort had been defeated. But now she was even farther back than where she had started before she had had her run-in with Draco. She had simply exchanged her job for love. And she had exchanged her friendships for it, as well.

Ginny and Harry rarely talked to her anymore. She had only seen them face to face once within the past three months. And their conversations had been… _awkward _to say the least, when they flooed each other once a week or so.

Hermione had tried to tell herself that this wasn't because of her relationship with Draco. That they were parents now and were busy, and that she shouldn't bother them with her boring day to day life. But things had only begun to get strange _after_ she had kissed Draco for the first time.

It_ was_ because of him, she couldn't hide from that any longer. She knew Harry and Ginny had tried so hard to be supportive, but every time Hermione mentioned Draco, Ginny would grow cold and distant and make an excuse to leave, while Harry would look resolutely away and his lips would curve ever so slightly downward into a frown. This happened so often that Hermione began to floo them less and less.

But this was ridiculous! They were her best friends! She loved them more than anyone else in the world! How could she have abandoned them? How could she have let this happen?

She had fooled herself into thinking she could keep both her friends and Draco, and still have a meaningful life. She had been swept away in what she had been so sure was love, that she hadn't considered that it might not work out as she had hoped.

All this time Harry and Ginny had not abandoned her, though sometimes Hermione had felt that way. But now she understood.

They had simply been waiting for her to come around. They would always be there, because they loved her. Hermione thought back to what Harry had written in his letter to her months ago…

_Ginny reckons it's best to let you realize on your own that you are not doing the right thing…_

At the time, Hermione had been so angry at them that she had not stopped to consider what they were saying, despite Harry's pleadings for her understanding. She had been caught up, once again, in her feelings for Draco.

And with a blow so strong that she sat up suddenly, startling Draco who had been watching her, she realized: She could not let what she had thought was love get in the way of her life any longer. She could not sit there and wait for great things to come. She had to take action. She had to make things happen _for herself_. She had to get her life back together, and she had to get her friends back.

But she could not make this happen if she stayed with Draco.

"No," said Hermione, her voice choked and wavering with fear of what she knew she had to tell him.

"No what?"

"No… It _isn't_ worth it."

And then, she explained it to him. Told him everything she had just thought through, every detail in complete honesty. Everything that had happened between them in the last few months. She had to make him understand her decision.

Through her entire speech over the next twenty minutes, Draco said nothing and revealed no expression, simply listening and nodding his head occasionally to encourage her to continue.

"Do you understand?" she asked finally, tears now flowing down her face and leaving a pool of hot, salty wetness on the table between them.

"Yes," he said, his own voice choked now and eyes growing watery even as he tried to blink them away. "It's okay."

"It's okay," she repeated.

Hermione got up, wiped away the her tears with the back of her hand and walked around the table to him. He took her hands and raised them to his lips slowly.

"So, I guess it's goodbye," he said.

At this she threw herself into his arms, a fresh wave of sobs racking her body, and his too, she noticed. For a moment they just held each other, afraid to let go. He then took her face between his hands and kissed her lips for what they each knew was the last time.

Hermione broke away from him.

"Goodbye, then," she whispered, voice and heart broken, and a second later she apparated…

Straight to Harry and Ginny's apartment. She knew it was illegal to cross continents without supervision, but she couldn't find it in herself to care as she fell into Harry's arms and cried.

She found no words were needed to explain what had happened. They knew. They had always known it would come to this. And even though she was devastated by the loss of Draco's love, she felt no doubt that she had made the right choice.

"You're back," said Harry simply, patting and holding her consolingly as Ginny took each of her hands and squeezed tightly.

As Hermione stood there, engulfed in the love of her two best friends in the world, she knew that something had changed. She was no longer going to wait around for her life to happen. She was going to take charge and make a contribution. She would be remembered for who _she was_ and not for who she was acquainted with.

Hermione almost smiled as she realized that this wonderful turning point in her life was all because of Draco Malfoy.


	23. Epilogue

**A Song for Lonely Hill**

Epilogue---

_Ten years later…_

Hermione was shifting pots and pans on the stove, while simultaneously directing eggs around the sizeable kitchen with her wand. It was hectic, as it always was on April the fifth. Hectic, though not unpleasant. She hummed a tune that sounded vaguely like Weasley is Our King to herself while flipping a pancake.

As it hit the pan, her eyes fell on two framed awards side by side placed gingerly above the stove. Both Order of Merlins, first class, both very different times in her life.

The first, Hermione had despised until only a year or so ago. One each had been presented to her and Harry and Ron (It hung at the ministry in honor of him, though Hermione was more than a bit sure that Harry had stolen it.) for their services in the defeat of the Dark Lord Voldemort. She had never felt she deserved it, never wanted credit for something she had only aided in and not accomplished on her own. It had felt cheap, taking credit for something Harry had done.

But on the other hand, Hermione had always really felt it had been given to her out of pity anyway, and not with any real recognition of achievement. The award had been stowed unceremoniously in a taped box in the back of a closet until Seamus had discovered it and asked her what was inside. Before she could stop him, he had opened it with a gasp of shock that it had been hidden away like this, and insisted that it be displayed for all to see and admire. Hermione couldn't bring herself to say no to him.

That was a year ago. Not long after, she had been presented with her second Order of Merlin: For the wide contribution and improvements in the fields of magical potions and muggle medicine. Notably, the long-awaited, and often slaved-over, invention of The Wolfsbane Potion: Solution the second.

Using a special combination of muggle remedies and similar ingredients from the original Wolfsbane Potion, Hermione had finally accomplished a goal that had been brewing in her mind ever since she had met Remus Lupin at 13 years old. Werewolves, if her potion were to work, could now avoid transformation altogether and live their lives as normally as any other. This all in her tiny flat in London, with gold she had scrounged from every odd job she could find in order to buy the proper tools and materials.

Her heart leaping with what she was sure was success, she had practically zoomed over to Lupin and Tonks' place. (They lived mercifully nearby.)

After what seemed hours of convincing and suspicious words, Lupin had at last thrown caution to the wind, tipped his head back and downed three gulps of it, according to Hermione's instructions. They had waited anxiously for the next night, which was the full moon, Hermione too nervous to return home.

And when the sun had at long last disappeared behind the trees, nothing at all happened. No transformation, no pain, no insanity, no nothing. Lupin, Tonks and Hermione had sat in silence for a long while, digesting what this would mean to the world.

One trip to St. Mungo's later, Hermione Granger's name was once again a sensation. Not only had werewolves been relieved the pain and humiliation of transformation, they had been relieved of the years of stereotype. Literally overnight, the world's hatred and stereotypes of werewolves had evaporated.

She hadn't asked for money, but by Merlin was it given to her. She earned enough to open her own experimental potion development company, with a whole team of employers and scientists at her command. This only led to further breakthroughs. Hermione was at last changing the world, one potion at a time.

Nine months ago Hermione had been presented her Order of Merlin, First Class. Hers. On her _own._

Hermione smiled at each award, trying not to burn the pancakes. Now she didn't mind the first one so much anymore.

Her cooking complete, she dumped it all onto three plates on the table, careful to decorate Seamus' with a smiley face. It was his birthday, and she loved treating him.

"Seamus! Jessica! Breakfast!" she shouted up the stairs of her glorious three floor house that she and her husband had bought together. Her call was answered instantly, as she heard two pairs of feet zooming down the stairs all too quickly to be entirely safe.

They both sat down at the table, but not before Hermione had scooped up her five-year-old daughter to give her a quick kiss on the forehead.

"Put her down, sweetie, we're starving!" said Seamus in a mock-annoyed voice.

Hermione did so and they began their meal, Seamus reading the paper in his routine fashion. But instead of eating, Hermione played with the gorgeous wedding band on her finger, reminiscing about the happiest day of her life: The day she had married Seamus Finnegan.

He let her love him the way she had never loved anyone. Fully and completely, with her whole heart. She simply couldn't believe that she was so lucky that he would fall in love with her as well.

They had met when Harry had called Hermione to tell her that he had run into an old friend. This was two years after she had broken up with Draco. She and Seamus had hit it off right away, falling in love and getting married just two years later. Six years had passed since that glorious day, and she was thirty-four years young. Hermione still couldn't believe it had actually happened, despite the myriad of pictures that adorned their house, proving it.

Seamus' voice interrupted her day dreams-

"Hey, Hermione, remember Malfoy? Draco Malfoy?"

Her heart jumped a bit, but she replied calmly, "Yes, of course."

"He got married last week! To Daphne Greengrass, that Slytherin girl, remember? Haven't thought of him in years."

She snatched the paper from him, determined to look at this for herself. She felt a bit sick.

Hermione had never told him of her brief romance with Draco Malfoy. What was there to be said? Only Harry and Ginny really knew. And they had never told anyone. Not that Hermione was embarrassed, she just never wanted to think about it. She and Draco had not spoken for years.

"Hermione, are you okay?" asked Seamus, concerned.

"Yes. Well… Actually, I feel a little sick. Do you mind if a lie down a bit?"

"Of course, not go ahead."

She practically ran to their bedroom, her mind stretching to wrap around this unexpected information.

Hermione collapsed onto the bed. The sickness had passed, as had the initial shock of hearing his name for the first time in years. Her eyes took in the shot of the happy couple being pelted with rice at the altar. Draco's face was bright with a light she had never seen there before. He was glowing, as was his new wife. Daphne looked simply beautiful. They _both _looked simply beautiful.

Hermione waited for the tears to come. She waited for the sadness that was sure to envelop her any second.

Nothing.

In fact, she felt another emotion growing inside her. Something quite different. Was it… Happiness? Was she feeling _happy?_

Yes. Of course she was. She was feeling happy for someone she had come to think of as a friend. He had finally found someone who understood him, who respected him and who _didn't_ expect great changes of character like she had.

Hermione's face split into a grin, and an uncontrollable desire coursed through her to call and congratulate them.

After all, it was because of him that Hermione had found purpose and success in her life. It was because of him that she was proud of who she was and what she had done on her own.

And it was also because of him that she had learned to let loved ones go. Draco had taught her lessons that she would have never been able to learn herself. Instead of every day regretting the loss that was her best friend Ron, she every day appreciated the good he had done and his profound achievements that had changed so many lives.

Of course, she still missed him. But she had at last accepted that he was gone.

Because of Draco. She owed her life to him.

As if some sort of unholy recklessness had seized her, Hermione threw down floopowder and stuck her head into the fire, shouting, "Malfoy Manor!"

Because she'd be damned if she didn't find a way to congratulate him.

**A/N**:

Erm… -cough- Yeah, that took a while. What was it, like two months? Three months? I'm so very sorry, and I hope that you haven't completely forgotten about this story. I had some major writer's block, and even thought I knew what I was going to say, I couldn't find a way to say it. But better later than never.

Anyway, the Author's Notes of the 22nd chapter are my final thoughts, but I still have to thank everyone…

Credits-

For the title, a beautiful instrumental song by The Egad Star.

For story inspiration, a song called 'The Shape I Found You In", by Girlyman. (I urge everyone to have a listen. It's amazing!)

Thank Yous-

Hermionestargazer: For your encouragement to continue and your always insightful praise.

Anna: For your enthusiasm, dedication to reading the story, and for always urging me to keep going!

Superelle: For being there since the beginning, and for continuing to review thoughtfully almost every chapter.

Pegasusbabi: For bugging me to continue and being very nice about it when I take long breaks.

Oh snap its brie: For your constant enthusiasm and caring about the characters.

Tigerlilystar: For being always engaged and understanding the choices I've made in the story.

Gwinna: For your elegant comments that made me want to write faster!

Dracoisthesexiestmanalive: For following the characters through to the end, despite the unsatisfying conclusion.

EVERYONE: For reading, reviewing and showing your support in whatever way you did. I truly appreciated every single hit and comment, as they urged me that continuing was not only for my own enjoyment, but for others' as well.

Oh yeah, and I own nothing that J.K. Rowling owns. I just enjoy playing in her sandbox.


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